Let It Go
by hoperiam
Summary: Even very bad stuff can lead to the good one in the end. The question is are you tough enough to keep up till the end?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 **A second page.**

The dream left her. The subtle feeling of nearly being awake penetrated her being.

She opened her eyes. She was alone in a bed, alone in a room, alone. The air tore the curtains, as if playing. Light was shimmering through the cracks. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath exhaling slowly. She pulled unconsciously more tightly at the blanket around her frame and came closer to the window. She was cold. It was still early. Outside was quiet and peaceful morning. Another morning, another room, one more day to go through.

She returned to the bed. She didn't want to begin the day yet. She found a note at the other side of the bed: "Went out to find breakfast". Short and simple to the point. She wasn't hungry. Simple.

Last night was a breakthrough for both of them.

Yes, they had lost so much, yes it was none of their faults but they didn't have to say it because they both knew that they would blame themselves till their last breath.

They worked out the way to go on. If they give up now, they will fail their Gem.

They have to avenge.

And what is the better way to do it than to make sure that nothing like that will ever happen to any other family.

Holstein and the organization became their new target.

They will be strong for their baby.

Jo didn't even realise that she was crying and that she was not alone any more. She was so enclosed in her thoughts, she didn't notice that Dean had come back. And that he was hugging her and that she felt better.

The call of Dean's cell broke their moment.

He ignored it in the beginning. But the damn thing wouldn't stop. Reluctantly Jo left Dean's embrace.

"It must be urgent, the one who's calling is quite persistent." said Jo. She grabbed her things and went to the bathroom.

"It's always urgent." said Dean tiredly

"At least check the ID", she said closing the bathroom door. "I will be ready in ten."

She could no longer be a mess. This luxury was not affordable. She studied herself in the mirror. She was a survivor, a fighter and a protector. She would just have to create a better version of all these three.

Following her sudden desire to change the things she took the scissors and started cutting her hair swiftly. Something, still something was under her control in this life.

Curl after curl fell down. Her new hair cut was rather uneven, asymmetrical. Some curls were longer, others shorter, there was no rule. She threw in a smirk to her reflection. She wouldn't be able to shift the look in her eyes, she would just cover it later with glasses.

When she left the bathroom Dean was still on the phone. She could see that he was angry. Tired. Aged.

She started packing. After several minutes she was ready. Dean was sitting on the bed, his head in his hands.

"It was Bobby", he said not taking his hands from his eyes, only bearing his head deeper.

She kept silence. When she felt that Dean was reluctant to go on she asked:

"What did he say?"

Dean pushed himself back on the bed.

"He found a case he wanted us to deal with it"

"Good."

"Not good."

Dean's answers were clipped. He was on edge.

Somehow she knew that he would feel responsible for all the shit that had happened and that would happen. And that he would die this instant if he could have brought his baby back.

But she was an improved version of Jo, with erratic haircut and sarcastic, pragmatic attitude to life. This Jo didn't need a wreck for a husband. She needed the hunter, the partner. The fighter, the Winner.

She ached to comfort him, but how many times one can pick up the broken pieces and glue them? She buried the sympathy deeper, locked it and threw the key away. These feelings were not an armor to shield from the pain, to strain it.

She was standing in front of him. But he couldn't see her as his hands were covering his face in a weak attempt to cover more.

She kicked his shin.

"Dean, i packed up my bag. i am waiting you outside."

She left staying true to her words. The slam of the door was like a slap, a shake.

He got up. She was nowhere in the room. It was not one of his nightmares. She left.

Oh, she said she was waiting outside, but was she?

Maybe she finally realized that she would be better off without him? That he was the sole reason of her misery, the sole reason of ...their baby ...?

He snapped out of his thoughts, cold water streaming through his face leaving traces on his hands. He leaned on the sink for support.

the floor was covered with fair curls. He gathered them carefully before leaving the room.

She was not just waiting outside, she was sitting inside the Impala. The driver place. New hair, new attitude, he strode forward assessing his wife.

He opened the door. She smirked: "Took you long enough."

Their eyes met.

Pain. Plea. Choice.

"Move, woman!"

She slid to the passenger seat, not a bit offended by the tone.

Let the game begin.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 **New and Old**

They were riding in the Impala. The windows were down. The hot air was crushing inside the car. There was no soundtrack to their ride apart from their thoughts.

From time to time Dean would throw inconspicuous looks at the woman beside him. The said woman was currently very preoccupied with the pathetic scenery of a run-down town they were passing by.

She wasn't looking at him or at the scenery. It was more like she was in deep thought not seeing anything.

She wasn't looking for a talk and he didn't mind silence. He was even grateful to prolong Jo's oblivious state regarding the case.

He analyzed her new behavior, her new hair cut.

He thought he had figured out what she was trying to accomplish with the new look and attitude. It was her way to control the pain, it was what allowed her to go on.

She had been through a lot since their first meeting. And he observed how she came over all the obstacles. Nothing was able to break her. No matter what she always remained true to herself, always coming back like a spring.

But what happened in the farm and as a result, the event after - broke her so hard that she had to become someone else in order to survive.

To become or to pretend? Permanent or not?

This Jo he got to know this morning was all business and pleasure, no over-thinking, no attachment. No sentiments .

He caught the shifting of her body.

"D-e-a-n?"Jo turned to face him.

Huh, and he would have to get used to this sassy sound of his name?

"Yes, Jo." He acknowledged her talking to him.

She seemed not at least unfazed that his voice was still like usual: gruff and distant.

"Would you mind to stay a little longer in this town?'' Jo sounded whiney.

"Any particular reason?"

"I need the glasses."

"I'll pull over at the next shop I see..."

"Dean, no!" Jo didn't let him finish.

Her voice was close to hysterical shout, which he only assumed as he had never heard his Jo shouting.

He didn't fail to continue driving straight, but only because he was driving his Impala.

He saw a sign of a motel and turned in its direction. He didn't ask, she kept silence. And somehow he understood that it was exactly what she wanted him to do. Well, new character, but they still could read each other. Something remained unchanged. He felt like some weight was lifted from his heart.

The room was dirty and shabby. But it was not like they were going to have an extended stay there. He hoped...

"Spill it out Jo," said Dean when they made themselves as comfortable as it was possible in a messy room.

Jo was looking in the opposite direction from Dean. Her voice was calm. She was collected, there was no trace left of a sassy girl with hysterical mannerism.

"At the corner of 25th Birch and Elton there is a bar. I need to visit it. I want you to wait me outside of this shit hole of a town, exit B."

It was a well formulated plan. Simple. But reasonable? and Still ...Screw it.

Two could play this game.

"I wouldn't mind to have a wet too." He tried subtly to get her realize she was in no way to go alone.

It seemed she was prepared to this, as she spoke without a pause.

"OK, we leave Impala in a secure place near exit B, get the wheels, i will visit the bar and you'll wait for me in the car just in a block from the bar." She finished finally looking at him. Dean watched her smiling at him, so easily. All her body language told that she was relaxed, confident. He couldn't help but be proud of her. Though when he looked directly into her eyes he saw raw pain and struggle tormenting her inside.

She said she needed what? hm, glasses?

His eyes were scrutinizing her. But she didn't give a damn. She stared back determined not to back down. She would hold her ground. "But we can always return to the first variant of the plan." She stated each word as if the drum of her gun was clicking, putting each bullet in its place.

Dean wasn't up to determining the bounds of new Jo's bossiness and reasoning. She was in a foolhardy mood. The way she delivered her little speech - it was like stating the facts. She wouldn't take no for an answer. He felt the storm brewing and he couldn't let it strike.

"Let's go." was Dean's resolution.

It was her plan, but he was the one to call the shots.

He would deal with her like a pro-hunter and not like a broken husband.

They left the room. It stayed unchanged, they didn't bring any things with them.

Yes, the room was not affected by their visit, it was they who were changing and changing the rules.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 **Full circle**

What was he doing? Letting her go in some bar. She was armed he reasoned. She could kick an ass.

He wanted to smash his hand on the driving wheel! That's exactly what she wanted to do! She wanted to kick some ass!

She was already gone for nearly 10 minutes before he left the car and went to the bar.

He never got to the bar. Having crossed a street he spotted Jo at the corner of one building that was a part of shattered but surviving houses lined by half moons and constituting a living area. She was standing not moving. He followed her gaze. She was looking at a woman and a little girl. The mother and daughter were sitting in front of the house. Well, the woman was, the girl was chasing non-existent butterflies around her. The picture changed abruptly when a dark unremarkable car parked in front of shabby house and a man went out. The woman's demeanor visibly changed. She gathered the girl in her arms and practically ran into the house by the time the man shut the door of the car.

The stranger banged at the house door. He shouted that she'd better come out and went on banging. The woman appeared on the porch. She was like a spring ready to plunge but holding on. They argued. Dean watched as Jo started to move forward. She was not going to the crying man and woman.

The little girl went out as well. It seemed like nobody noticed the girl but Jo. She reached the house, the couple was so engrossed in the arguing, it was not a problem to stay invisible. Jo scooped the girl in her arms, rocking her slightly. Dean's vision clouded for a moment and he saw his Jo with their Gem. It hurt. He willed himself to come to the present. The girl was in mother's hands and the man was under Jo's gun. Her hand was free of shaking and she only crossed the man with her other hand when he tried to pull something out of his back pocket.

*** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 *** 8 ***

 _Every time i close my eyes i feel like dark paradise..._  
 _So the problem with moving forward was quite perceptible..._

They got wasted pretty bad in the bar.  
They were reckless.

They tried to get wasted, they tried to be reckless.

They wanted to lose the feeling of deadliness that was like acid in their souls tearing them apart.

They stumbled out of that dirty bar to the dead end alley at the back of the building at the back of the bar, black bar.

They were rough at each other, bruising, scratching, raving, destroying, crushing, molding, erasing, escaping, pretending, struggling, searching, feeling, running forgetting.

Jo woke up in another faceless motel room. Her head was killing her from a serious hang over. She found a glass of water and pills on the bed side table. Swallowing the medicine and drinking the whole glass she returned to her pillow. Eyes closed she found her mind wondering to Gem. She squeezed her eyes tight. She fisted her hands. There was no way she was going to fall to that abyss of thoughts.

She got up, ready to meet the day. She felt sore. Not only her head was heavy but her muscles were crying against any activity. It was past noon. Sunny outside.

The usual.

In the shower she registered the bruises. They were on her wrists and upper arms. She cleaned up and even applied some make up. She looked nice. She looked normal.

What a far cry from reality. She took the keys from his car, some money, shoved the knife in the boot and left the motel room.

The journey to the cafe was short.

Drinking her first cup of coffee Jo sent a shot massage to her husband: where r u?!

In the dark alley they were searching for release of pant up frustration, despair. They were afraid to live. They agreed to go on, but how could they enjoy a life if Gem was not there to share it with them. Did they really deserve to live?

Jo was sure, that Dean thought that she was. And she was angry at him, how she was better than him?! That's why he did all she wanted: new image - ok, new attitude - fine, rushing full head in the trouble - I'll take your back. He struggled to minimize the risks and to soften the blow but really - what Jo wanted she got it. They had agreed that they were both responsible for what had happened. But it seemed that Dean consciously or unconsciously acted like he was the one to take the shot.

And last night's affair was the prove enough. She wanted rough and fast sex at the back of a dirty bar - he dished it out.

Only he was not with her when she woke up. She remembered how at the Jeremie's farm, she always woke up snuggled to Dean, they would talk about everything and nothing or laid in silence. So close. So carefree, so stupid!  
But it was before their Gem was taken from them.

With the third cup of coffee the memories flooded through her mind, assaulting it in colorful abrupt pictures.

Her driving the Impala. Her nearly smashing the Impala on the telegraph pole. Dean's annoying saving them from the hit by turning the wheel in the last second.

Her bitterness and disappointment with the alcohol leaving her system. His frustrated quietness and tight lips and white knuckles on the steering wheel, him leaving...

"if that's what you want?!"

His pain, his hands on her wrists and him shacking her hard: "do you really want it?"

Her finally loosing it...:"leave me alone! i can't! i thought i could...but i can't,,i don't want to!"

She remembered how he stayed with her through everything, at first his hands were like restraint jacket, she couldn't move, she could hardly breathe. And when she woke there was only a glass of water, medicine and cold spot next to her.

She burst into their motel room. Everything was the same like at noon when she woke up. The room was empty. And nothing was missing but her husband.

Bobby sent her to save him. And she crushed him. Again. She was selfish this new Jo.

She checked Dean's bag. She searched the Impala for weapons. Finally she opened the computer.

There was an open file.

 _Jo,_

 _it will never be better. the loss of Gem is a part of our lives. You are searching for the strength to go on, for the reason to wake up. you are exhausted. you want to leave. but i am here because of you. you are my reason to wake up and do the job. you are my reason, strength,_

 _i love you. any you._

 _always_

 _But people keep on dying, Jo._

 _you have a choice. you **have** the reason._

"Any you, any you, any you ...you have the reason."She read Dean's letter again and again. Again.

She packed the bags and loaded the Impala. He was right, she had the choice. She was Jo Winchester, damn it. She was a hunter. She was a partner. And she had a job to do.

She drove to the exit of this backwater town. Near the exit B she spotted sign for the B&B. She turned in its direction. She parked the car near the back exit. She could check with the reception, but she wanted to check her gut feeling. She needed the reassurance that she had read him right. That she was able to find him. That it was not too late.

The room was clean. Nice. Airy but empty. She refused to give up and started searching the room more closely. She found the file with the case in the closet. It had to be the one Bobby was sending them on. Dean wasn't wasting his time, she chuckled bitterly. The room was empty. She started reading through the police reports, pathologist's review. Basic facts. Theories. She skipped the gross photos. But words were picturing really vivid images.

She finished studying the file in the bathroom, hugging the toilet.

She was a mess. Again. The thoughts rushed through her mind.  
She had to find Dean. If she was right the next kill would be very soon. She would never forgive herself. It was already night. She came to the B&B at the sunset. She would have to...

Dean.

Dean was there. He was sitting on the bed closer to the door. She stopped dead in the bathroom door frame.

Relief, joy, guilt washed over her.

She found his eyes. They wore resignation. But still hope. And Fight. Not breaking the eye contact, Jo reached Dean gently, sitting beside him on the floor, she leaned her head on his right knee. After a moment, he pulled her on his lap whispering, "I miss you…never leave me again…. ." She could hear his heart beating rapidly. But she felt peace. She would give a lot to stay like this in Dean's arms forever, but she knew better. She shifted and he turned his head to meet her eyes again.

"Dean, we need to hurry. I know what is doing it." She pointed to the file.

"Ok, you will explain me in the car."

She went to get the file.

He was still sitting on the bed. She reached for the exit door handle, but felt his eyes on her back.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Her voice was hesitant, shy.

"I want you to come back." There, he admitted it.

She stepped towards him. He met her halfway.

Kiss, bitter but tender, sweeten by the promise hope.

"We have the reason Jo, we have it..."

And then her mind and heart believed him. She felt his strength fueled what little was left of her hope. She believed. This time she truly started the way back home, to her true Jo, to Dean's Jo.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Where I Was When I Met You

Everything is ruled out.

No matter what steps he took he faced the same dead-end.

He woke up from each nightmare drained of life, hope.

The reality and nightmares became one.

He could no longer see the difference.

Everything was dark.

With every passing day he could see less and less light.

But he had to go on, he had to be someone who could conquer the circumstances 'course really there was no other way around. He would keep the routine of surviving, saving and fighting back as long as he was breathing.

At last his persistence paid off.

Somehow light was breaking through his nightmares. It provided more strength to live through the day. He was trying to find something he could hold onto in his way of work, the reason to wake up and do the job. The same job that had taken everyone and everything from him in this or that way.

That was his life or something like this. That was inside of tall, strong, dark and handsome Dean Winchester. Though for the world he was known as a die hard, trouble seeker who would do what it takes to be on the wining end: a cold headed killer, a hunter.

Today was hard though it was not so much different from the previous one. Another loss and he wanted badly to forget but there was no distraction, no consolation, no solid ground to lay and have a free breath. His younger brother was in college living a different life, and despite it being a lie he was glad for Sam. Though Dean was constantly on edge that something would drag his brother back in the depth of hunting life. He had no control and it was driving him crazy.

He cracked the puzzle but it still was too late and no death of a "bad guy" could pay off the lives of two humans that were killed by an unnatural force. He was too late. He couldn't but ask himself this one question: was it his fault? The thing was he started question his skills, he started doubting and that was bad.

He knew his next step should have been a rest but he dreaded the nightmares so much that he had made up his mind to hit the road at once after bagging. He would stop and have a nap during his trip. It was time to visit his little brother.

But he never got to see Sam on that trip. He met only nightmares that reached him at the station not far from Colusa, a 4 hour drive to Sacramento. He stopped to fill the gas and freshen up, grab some lunch and get a grip on the raging feelings. He needed to strategize. And that's how he found his way to r'Kon motel. He checked in and as soon as he crossed the threshold he fell on the bed.

He was running breathlessly, somebody or something was after him. They circled him. There was no way to run. He had to fight. But they were stronger. Blood thick and red was pouring through numerous wounds, the copper taste filled his mouth. He felt his ribs breaking and chest burning. At some point he realized that it was just a terrible dream but he was helpless to stop it.

Faces of his family and beloved ones rushed through him. A face of a girl with sun-shine hair and deep chocolate eyes wasn't familiar but it was definitely most comforting. He didn't know how but he was able to fight back and clear his way out. A hand covered in light took a hold of his and pulled him out with so much force that he believed he would lose the extremity for sure. The hand and face of unknown girl connected and he saw her. Just looking at her he felt relieved. For the first time in a long run he didn't want his nightmare to finish, because it was no longer the nightmare but a healing dream…

But good things never last long. When Dean woke up it was morning. The sun was already high and he couldn't believe that he had actually slept through 8 hours. He wasn't sure what exactly had happened in his dream. After hot shower he packed up and headed out in search of coffee. Though he had a good rest hot coffee was one of the staples of his everyday goings.

He was ready to visit Sam.

Later but not too much late, Dean got to conclusion that this miracle 8 hour sleep was only given to him to prepare for the news about his brother.

 _i_ _t's easier to write on a scrap of paper - less obligations._

(And more artistic freedom.)

 _They say bad experience is still experience._

 _Even bad things could serve you right._

 _In the light of the day the nightmare brings sparks of ideas and streams of inspiration._

Something along the lines:

Life is a river.

It flows constantly knowing neither your fears nor obstacles.

One gets a stream let, the other finds himself within a mountain spring.

What is stronger: a river or some obstacles? And sometimes stupid obstacles just won't allow you to follow the river even if you want to.

Here he was standing before Pastor Jim. Of course he wasn't thinking about rivers and streams. In his mind everything was in much more simple terms: "What the f* 's going on?"

Well, he had chosen or better say, he had been forced to turn his scrap of paper in something more considerable: a notebook, or a true book perhaps?

His eyes moved towards the woman in front of him. She seemed to be listening to Pastor Jim's words attentively. She must have felt his gaze and met his eyes. Determination. She would be unstoppable. The rock, the force to be reckon with. Being decisive himself he found it comforting.

These s.o.b.s were right. Of course they had to be. But still, when they declared that a family was stronger than a sole hunter it was still difficult to just go with it without questioning it.

They were officially married. He was a husband the fact that she had been partnered with him even before her birth was a strange one. But that's how these people function; they seemed to strive on all strange and out of normal.

His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that this stranger was his wife. She was an unknown factor. Though the look in her eyes seemed to say "don't shit with me and I'll be reliable enough to watch your back."

He **made a choice** to believe her.

He would have the opportunity to test the grounds all too soon.

After "the ceremony" they went outside.

He wanted to leave the place as soon as possible.

"Did you pack everything?" he asked her, "are you ready to leave this place behind?"

"Yes, just let me say good-bye to a couple of people and we can go."

"Sure, I'll be in the car."

He watched her: a girl more than a woman at "the ceremony", full of contradictions, gentle - hard, naive - world wise, moving in the direction he got to learn was the cemetery. A gulp of sadness hit him.

The memory of Mary and John surfaced. And not calling them "mum" and "dad" didn't really help.

 _It's More Than a Feeling…_

 _When I hear that old song they used to play (more than a feeling)_  
 _I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)_

She despised those people. They were so empty and power driven, blood thirsty, two faced people.

They called themselves the protectors, the saviors but she was counting the days that she could leave them behind.

She **was** afraid of them. But she wasn't afraid to stand her ground.

They underestimated her due to her age. Good for her, bad for them.

They sheltered her when she lost her parents. But it was a forced one.

They were like an army organization.

She was a soldier in training. Through years she learnt to fight, shoot, strategize and survive. She learnt that physical pain was a good sign. She learnt that mental numbness was a good escape.

But she didn't become one of their men - brain-washed, single minded force to be run over.

She learnt to preserve "the Jo" her parents raised to be. She remembered every lesson they gave her, she cherished their memory.

It was her source of strength, it was her fuel to sustain the fighter inside of her.

Also, she felt hopeful that soon she could escape the Net.

It wasn't like she couldn't leave the Safety Net residence; It was more of a problem where to go from there because the one would still be under their surveillance net.

Pastor Jim was the only one who she could treat like an ally. He supported her. She couldn't say when or how, it was more on the intuitional level, Jo put Pastor Jim in the category of people who she could rely on. It was sad that he was the other one alive there to keep her company.

Then, one day, she learnt that she truly could rely only on herself the hard way.

It was the day she finally got the chance to break out from the Net.

It was the day she met the man whose face tormented her in the dreams.

It was the day Jo married Dean Winchester.

That day was the beginning of her book.

Because what had been before that day, was only a prologue.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **How our married hunting routine started (part 1)**

They were riding in silence. No music, no talk. The straight road, leading from point "A" to point "B". If life was that simple. Every five seconds his eyes would slide across the ring on his left hand and he would try to reason with everything that had happened.

As soon as they hit the road "his wife" dove into the file with the "test case" that they had received from the Net right after the meeting. She was all business.

The case. He couldn't believe that somebody else had gathered the case but him, or Sam. John.

He was obviously lost in his thoughts, because he heard Jo calling out his name rather loudly.

"Dean! Dean are you ok?" called Jo.

He turned to look at her, but promptly returned to the road.

"Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about...No matter. What were you saying?"

She shrugged it off and continued, not at all discouraged by the lack of any explanation.

"I was pointing out that it might be "Astro" that we were against. As it tends to kill closest relations of recently passed away between 3 and 4 a.m at the cemetery." reported Jo.

She felt his gaze slide over her.

"You might be on something." she heard him say thoughtfully.

She continued, "And all the victims had lost someone recently. In the coroner report the time of death is right between 3 and 4 a.m." She closed the file.

"I guess for now it is our top theory." said Dean.

The rode in silence for some time.

"How close are we to this town...Stronglif? How much is left?"

This time Dean heard her.

"I think we will be there in a half."

"So, that leaves us not much but enough time to safely check in the motel, have some rest, eat, plan and strike."

"Right. Sounds like a good plan to me. Have you already checked about the motels and food?"

He returned with the same rhythm

"Was he barely stifling the smirk?" thought Jo.

"As a matter of fact, I have", she bit.

"Great!"

He chuckled. She resisted elbowing him.

They were talking about the hunt like any other business. They were talking the same language.

It was closer to the sunset when they reached Stronglif.

He spotted 7/11 near their motel and mentally checked for the supplies.

The room arrangement was a strange affair. Due to safety issues and no less important - economy, they went for a single with a double. They were married legally but Dean didn't know how the things work. The case was the priority. For now.

After securing the room, Dean said he would go for a walk. Jo didn't argue.

He needed to think. Alone. He had been robbed of this opportunity to gather the intel and work out the plan of actions.

…his father was dead.

…his brother was lost.

He was introduced to the Net, to the hunting world opposite to what he knew. The Net caught him with its schemes and plans.

The hunting net turned out to be well organized and established. It had a very long history with lots of rules and traditions. The arranged marriages were obviously a part of them.

May be if his father didn't die, his brother wasn't lost, and he wasn't at the crossroads he would definitely had gone away from all this shit.

But here he was, a married man on a case partnered with Johanna Beth Harwell. She didn't agree to take his surname. That seemed to be the only fact that she didn't get along with.

She was quite pretty and level headed, but with fire. He would call her quiet, but every time he found her eyes, her gaze was so intense and serious. It lacked the carefree demeanor of a young girl.

In one word - tough.

She had to become one in order to survive.

They all had to. 'Cause otherwise you would die.

They weren't able to have the talk after the ceremony of what they were exactly, – wanting to get from the Net as fast and far as possible. She acted like his partner no more or less. He could live with it. For now.

But he knew that they should talk, she knew it too.

Perhaps after the case...the sound of his mobile interrupted his train of thought.

The number was unknown but he felt a pang.

He picked up.

"Dean? It's Jo. You should come back ASAP."

Her voice was a little bit shaky.

"Jo, what's happening? I'm on my way." He heard the click of the end tone.

He preferred this one to the sound of falling and breaking.

He never ran so fast.

It was dark, no moon, no people around the motel. At least where their room was. He tried to control his breathing and even the rhythm of his heart beating.

He took out his gun (he never really left without it). He neared the door. All he could hear were muffled voices.

He was ready to break through but suddenly the gun shot pierced the air and an outraged cry followed "Bitch!"

It was a male voice and Dean would recognize it in any state under any conditions: "Sammy."

He entered the room. A worried brother slipped over an experienced hunter. Just for a second, but it was enough. He couldn't say how but he was thrown to the furthest wall with all too familiar demonic force.

"Dean! He is possessed!"

So much for the reconnection passed through Dean's hazed mind.

A small but strong hand yanked round his torso and helped him to stand up.

Jo met wild eyes of Dean.

"Jo, meet my lost brother Sam."

"What?! Are you serious?"

"That's exactly I've been pointing sweet thing," smirked "Sam" and sent Dean into the other wall. It laughed enjoying the pain.

Dean landed hard but he preserved his consciousness.

It went to Dean to taunt, "Oh, poor Dean, to find your brother only to lose him."

"Shut up! Brother or not I am not gonna stand for that, bitch!" cried Jo.

Fire was blazing in her eyes.

Oh, that fire, that dangerous fire. The thought crossed Dean's mind, as Jo fired her gun once again.

It stopped laughing and sent Jo up against the wall. Or it tried. Because nothing happened. She remained standing where she was.

"You think you are safe, but look," said Jo pointing to "Sam's" arm. "I hadn't missed. I shot you where I wanted."

The possessed followed her gaze and a hiss escaped its lips.

"And you are where we wanted you to be," said Dean tilting his head up.

It looked up and saw nothing but the dirty ceiling. It attempted to move.

Nothing.

"Not so talkative any more, are we?"

The puzzlement on its face was almost comical. Almost. But it was Sam. But it was his brother.

Jo reached Dean and examined him for injuries.

"I'll live." He dismissed gruffly.

"You sure will," said Jo.

Then she reached the other brother.

It kept hissing and shouting how they would all die in torture and pain. Nothing new. But it was annoying.

"I might admit that you are a smart bitch, using a tattoo to close itself within a victim, that even the exorcism ritual won't send you to hell."

She chuckled tiredly, eyes meeting her 'husband's'.

"But now, when the symbol is gone," she posed and pinned the demon with her cold eyes. Looking directly into its black orbs she finished, "I will send you back and I will meet my brother-in-law for good."

Dean was right beside her.

"Nice touch with the neon paint Jo," praised Dean.

"Thanks," said Jo.

She started reciting the text of the exorcism.

As soon as she finished he rushed to his brother but a hand caught him in his way.

"Wait, let's make sure that the demon is gone." 

Dean felt stupid. Jo must have read something like this in his eyes, cause she moved forward, taking the flask with holly water. When she reached Sam, she turned and met Dean's eyes.

"You are a good brother, Dean. I share the priority of the family too. I get it, I really do. That's why I am here. And no judging."

She poured the water on Sam.

He gasped.

He was conscious, blood was oozing from his hand and arm where she had shot him.

There was no reaction to "Cristo" and it seemed that the 'spouses' exhaled simultaneously.


	6. Chapter 6

**Dear Readers, thank you for your time and interest!**

 **I am still a stranger here but you make me feel welcomed.**

 **Especially big thank you to MeloDy, happymeami, how-to-save-a-life, ToInfinityMyLove!**

 **Chapter 6. How our married hunting routine started (part 2)**

"We must stop the bleeding. He already seemed to lose enough. Then check for other injuries." Jo was all business.

She moved to find her first aid kit. She tripped a little and nearly fell but Dean caught her just in time.

"Sorry. I'm dizzy. I ain't feeling good."

He placed her on the bed and searched the room for water.

"How are you?" He asked passing her the bottle with water.

"I'll live." She said opening the bottle and taking some sips.

"You should probably take care of your brother."

"Yeah. I guess you might be right."

Sam's eyes were opened. They registered a man and a woman. Standard washed out furniture. A motel room.

He didn't know where he was. He couldn't remember how he had come here and where "here" was.

Alone.

His head was pounding, his body was like after a serious beat down. At the moment he was one big pain and panic.

"Dean?! " Shock and fear laced the exclamation of "help".

"I am here Sammy. I got you." His brother was here.

The sound of his brother's voice worked like a spell. Dean's presence grounded Sam. It allowed him to forget the plaguing questions: where, what, how. It allowed him to be a little brother.

He was not alone. He was safe.

Jo observed Dean's efficient work of patching his brother up. She saw that he was good at it and he didn't need her help. All his actions were methodical, precised and without any panic. It was obvious to her that he did it many times.

And then he just sat there, watching his brother sleeping. Rise and fall. Breathe in and breath out. Alive. Found.

The most welcomed entertainment for the sore eyes.

"How is he?" asked Jo.

"Worn out and beaten." Dean's voice was quiet.

"Aren't we all?"

None was turning the eyes down.

"Yeah," said Dean, "but we'll live."

That time she gave him a little smile. It was becoming a quick joke between them.

"You need to have some rest. Come on, take the bed and I'll get ready for the hunt."

"Tonight?!" He almost shouted and sent a quick look at the neighbour bed. Sam was still there, and sleeping. "You want to hunt **tonight**?"

"Well, we don't have much time left. The Net will catch with us soon. And with your brother..." Jo left the sentence unfinished but very clear.

They had to distance themselves from the Net.

And it was no longer the question of choice but the matter of surviving.

He complied and took the bed.

When his head hit the pillow he felt all the weight of the fight crushing him.

"I'll watch over," said Jo. Her presence helped to alleviate some of that weight.

He could feel light. He sensed that he was not alone. But it was safe to open the eyes.

It was already noon. The blinds couldn't fully keep the sun away instead creating different patterns on the interior of the room and its guests.

Sam was still dead to the world. But he would sleep it off, they would get over it. Dean reassured himself.

Jo was sitting on the chair and her legs were sleeping on the table.

It was obvious that she was uncomfortable. It was quiet.

He used the opportunity to study her face. She looked pale and tired... still pretty, and fragile.

No, Jo Harwell was anything but fragile. The events of past 12 hours played over in his mind. Then he saw them: ugly bruising marks in the shape of the fingers on her neck. He was so angry that he didn't realize she was now fully awake and saying something to him..."and I just felt somebody watching me. So I went back to the room and started calling you, 'cause I couldn't shake off the feeling of dread" She paused.

"Well, I was right. I've just managed to call you when it grabbed me choking the dear life out of me." She stopped. Her eyes glassy. She was there again. She touched her neck.

He didn't noticed how he got to sitting next to her.

"I used the holly water in my flask", she continued.

"You did the best, Jo."

"But it was a close call Dean. If I didn't manage to use my gun, if it didn't want to brag about my parents...I..I would have been dead."

"But you are not! Don't go the road of 'what if' Jo," said Dean. "It won't lead to any good."

She didn't reply.

"You are too good of a hunter for it, Jo."

Jo was still thinking of his words.

Where he was all practice she was all theory. But yesterday's round was on her.

In his eyes she was a professional. There was no point to correct him in his mistaken judgment of her abilities. If he only knew how amateurish she was.

After not receiving any reply but a distanced gaze, he decided to change the subject completely.

"What do you want for breakfast…or I better say dinner?"

She surprised him with a prompt reply.

"Strong black coffee with sugar would be nice."

"My treat then."

"Dean, wait!"

"What? I'll bring you doughnuts too." He smiled, "and a pie."

"No. it's ...Can I go with you?"

Something shifted in that moment. Her look was full of vulnerability, so strong, that she wasn't able to hide it. Was it always there and he saw it only now?

"Jo, will you take the keys on your way out. They are..."

"I know, in your leather jacket's right pocket," she finished taking off the chair.

"Let's go." A smile was gracing her features. And she looked so young, and girlish that Dean once again thought how old she was?

Their breakfast/dinner was rather quick but a pleasant affair. He found out that she was a waffle-girl and she said that she knew for sure that he was a pie-man. She was having a good time. He was glad she had. After yesterday he owned her much more.

They took some more coffee and doughnuts, Sam's breakfast and went back to the motel.

Sam was fully awake.

That time Sam's eyes distinguished his brother in a company of a young and beautiful girl.

After some indefinite time Jo decided that it was enough and she broke the brother's eyes talk.

"Hi Sam, my name is Jo Harwell. I am Dean's wife."

"Don't put him in the shock so fast honey."

"The faster he adepts the better."

To say that Sam was shocked would be an understatement. He was literally speechless. That's why Jo went for the kill: "We're actually newlyweds."

He was like a fish out of water, eyes darting from the girls' to her brother's.

"Seriously though, all you actually need to know about me is that I am a hunter. I'll do everything to keep my family safe. And you are family."

"And a wedding present would be nice." She smiled and searched for Dean's eyes.

Dean knew she was having fun, he liked this side of her. He liked seeing his brother again.

But it would be better if Sam said something at last.

"Jessica will never forgive me that we were not at your wedding."

Be afraid of your wishes, because they might be granted.

Dean had to sit Sam down.

In the end, he had to be the one to tell his brother that the love of his life, his Jessica was no longer among the living.

They were beaten, but still in the game.

The destroy of Astro turned practically in a series of routine motions for the three hunters.

Confirm research. Check.

Get ready the pine stakes. Check.

Set the trap. Check.

Drive the stake into the what must be its heart. Check.

Let the fire take care of all the remains. Check.

No injuries.

Jo tripped.

Technically it was after the hunt. So, no injuries. Check.

Dean actually dared to smirk. It amazed him how the girl could go free of injuries during the hunt only to twist her ankle after.

Jo kicked him in the shin with the foot of her good leg.

Dean only took her in his arms and placed her on the back seat.

"Rest." He managed to pronounce serious but his eyes were giving him away.

Sam was waiting them in the motel. He took the shot-gun place.

Dean placed ice on her ankle.

Then three hunters were on their way out of this little insignificant town with the face like any other little town.

Only neither of them would ever forget what happened in Stronglif.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 She Is Not A Damsel In Distress But He Is Her Knight**

She could hear rain poring on the car's roof, feel accidental bumps on the passing road and lights of the cars.

She was ready to interrupt the brother's talk saying that she was awake, but on hearing her name she pressed the vocal breaks.

"So, what's the deal with this Jo-girl?" asked Sam.

"Huh, what do you mean? She twisted her ankle," said Dean.

"Dean, what I want to know is how my playboy-womanizer -badass of a brother became a married man?" he paused. "Is she pregnant?"

Jo wanted to kick Sam.

"What?! No! It's not like this," rushed out of Dean with indignation.

"And if I remember correctly you were never against a marriage."

Sam's face twisted.

"Sorry." said Dean. "But I want to make it clear Sam, Jo is a family now. And you better treat her right little brother."

His words made Jo feel like she was wrapped in a soft warm blanket.

"I'm sorry, Dean. It's just such a... such a change from what I remember. But if you are happy I am happy for you."

"It's.. "

"What?" thought Jo, "It's not like that..it's not what you think...it's.."

"It's more than that," finished Dean.

Silence.

"I am sorry Sam for not finding you sooner, I would never give up."

Silence.

"I know."

Jo, felt like an intruder. She could already see that Dean was a closed up man.

"You know, I am kind of happy not knowing what I did while being possessed, but the rational part of me is terrified of what I might have done."

"No, Sam. It done! Not you! And you better come in terms with this shit."

They stayed at a slightly better place. Jo was totally agree that they should stick together and share.

They all went out for dinner to have some kind of welcome to the family party.

Sam was actually a nice guy, but still Jo couldn't forget the feeling of his (she knew technically it were not his but still) fingers on her neck and wicked gleam in the eyes.

Boys were drinking beer and talking. She put her two pennies in the conversation too. Even made the brothers laugh. But she couldn't help the feeling of being an outside observer of the brother's bond. The reason told her she was their hunting partner. The soul was feeling cold. She missed the soft blanket of his care.

Somehow the group of three became the group of two and one.

Brothers were playing pool. She suspected that Dean wanted to make some money.

She was not in the script of this affair though.

She spotted darts in the end of the bar. She enjoyed darts. She had a good eye and it helped her to relax. Her ankle was fine, honestly she had worse. The bruises were quite professionally concealed.

There was a company of college brats obviously celebrating some stuff. Navigating through the tables and people to the bar her mind was already forming a plan to gamble and win some money too. She slipped her wedding band on the other hand. There was no sign left yet. She would have to think it over later.

She smiled flirtatiously when she was passing the company's table.

She already had the bottle of bear in her hand.

Once she started throwing darts, she noticed a couple of college boys had separated from their flock and drifted in her direction. They flirted, she played along.

She wasn't Jo the hunter, she was a carefree girl, a bait, a prize.

When she missed the fourth time in a raw they asked if she wanted them to show her the ropes.

She swallowed hard when she felt the hand on her thigh, and a body pressing beside hers. It was the sleaziest part of the gamble and she once again mentally reminded herself to elaborate the deceit, in order to erase this part. She suppressed the urge to shove off the guy.

Well, she would just treat it as the drawbacks of the job.

Instead, she giggled and accepted.

No matter how skillfully she tried to avoid the dreadful violating touch every now and then she felt it. But she still got everything under her control. After a couple of shooting lessons, small talk and four bile-suppress-in time groupings they were having a bet: 500 bucks for five straight bull eyes versus a make out session.

The company of gathered men was laughing and drinking in anticipation of the victory. But the atmosphere got cooler with every dart hitting the target. After she succeeded in the fifth time, she turned to her competitor and said gleefully in the frozen silence around her, "Guess, a newbie won!"

"What the fuck!?"

"Hey, we played, I won. Don't kill the fun!" Jo tried to stay in the mode of tipsy, silly and easy girl. She could literary feel how the circle of observers grew tighter around her.

"I won't pay to a swindler."

"What!? We made a bet and I won. All is fair and square."

"You wish skank," snarled her adversary. Now, he was openly advancing her demonstrating his physical advantage.

But Jo only smirked, struck her hand and grabbed the cash from the nearest table (it was her own saying: you see the price and I want to see mine!) She made exactly two steps (for that she also had a rule: the more steps, the less punches you'll have to throw), a heavy hand landed on her shoulder, "I don't think so," a faceless voice growled.

'Neither do I," said Jo.

She turned around dramatically: gone was the silly girl, a warrior was staring them down.

Jo knew that they were just drunken boys who might not even tasted blood. She took the knife out of her boot and shoot it straight into the bull's eye, effectively destroying the darts that were occupying the central space.

Now she had more time to take more steps.

She was out of the tight circle of her enemies then out of the bar moving towards the Impala when she started texting Dean to come out and bring her her jacket.

She felt really naked without her gun that she always carried. And mostly she really was getting cold too. As she predicted no one followed her after seeing the knife hitting the target.

She heard steps after a few minutes and looked in the direction of the sound.

"Hell, no! Why am I so lucky?" thought Jo.

"Want some company, baby?" the slurred "baby" made her cringe. The guy was a total drunk. Jo decided to try and handle it peacefully, that's why as politely as possible she replied, "Not. Interested. Sorry."

She braced herself for the worst mentally kicking Dean too hurry up.

"Such a pretty thing, and all alone," the drunken pushed without a pause.

Jo was ready to hit the hitter and was mentally picturing the better way to do so, when she heard: "I believe she is ok, but thank you for the trouble."

Dean's voice was even like a steel, barely masking a desire to throw a punch. The drunken finely got a hint: "Ah, why all the good ones are taken." He said rather good naturally and left the parking lot.

Jo felt like a creepy chill ran through her. She finely exhaled.

Dean opened the front door of the Impala, the seat next to him.

She took it silently. He started the engine.

Silence.

They were waiting for Sam. She turned to face him and her words died on her lips. On the parking lot there was no moon. It was hidden by the clouds like blankets. Street lamps were meek.

But Impala's light disclosed the blooded knuckles.

Dean wasn't watching her, though he didn't have to in order to know what her eyes caught.

Any talk was smothered by Sam's opening the back door.

Silent Impala left the parking lot.

It was not silence that made this ride unusual but the fact that Jo was occupying the shot gun place. And not Sam. Jo was mentally and physically close to exhausted. But, God knows, how often she had to function on such level of strength.

If he wanted silence, she had no reason not to give him any. Though, she was more than ready to call this day a night.

This quiet and serious side of Dean was still new to her. No, she was not afraid of him. Never. She was unnerved and …

Dean's words froze her hand on the door handle when the Impala reached their motel.

"Sam, make sure that all the traps and salt lines are intact. We'll be back in a few." His voice was quiet, controlled, tired and old.

She ordered her body to relax and act cool. The mask of unfazed hunter slipped over her features. She was in the game, ready to play and fight to win.

She didn't hear Sam's reply, but as soon as the door after him closed, the car roared out of the parking lot leaving tire prints.

Just to be sure, she said "Cristo." He heard her and it was the first time his greenish eyes met hers. He didn't need to watch the road to drive, still staring in her smoldering eyes, he said, "You're a magnet for shit, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"By the way, you are really good at darts," he choked out. She didn't blink.

Silence.

He parked the car.

Silence.

Now the silence got pretty overestimated. She hated it.

She wanted to be a screaming bitch and if he didn't start talking she would.

"That's a pretty thing to get lost, he said giving her the knife that she left in the bar's bull's eye."

She took it. The warm metal cooled her close to frustration desire to scream.

"Jo, I know that I have no right to be angry with you."

She was surprised by this admission.

"But damn, if I am not right now!"

"I am a big girl, I am not gonna stop doing anything even if you say so."

"I know, Jo. I know."

His mask of a collected player was slipping.

He left the car.

After only a moment she followed.

"I guess, I was just not ready to see you around some college assholes who thought it was ok to …hit on you so hard."

He wasn't looking at her and she greedily drank his expression, mimic and gestures.

He chuckled suddenly, a light cocky smirk played on his lips.

"You were amazing, it was a real show."

She was very pleased with his praise.

"I still get to work on the avoid-the-touches part, though", Jo admitted begrudgingly.

He reached her left hand. She was a little surprised. She liked the feel of his warm hand.

"Definitely, I don't think I can watch the rerun of this show no matter how fascinating it was."

His tone returned to serious one. Now, it was her turn to break the silence with a chuckle.

Silence.

But it was the calm one, warm one, and not buzzing with nervous tension silence.

Jo squeezed Dean's hand, "Thank you Dean. I think, I owe it to you, as well as... I am sorry."

He watched her carefully.

Oh, he would not let her go so easily. She thought.

His sharp eyes demanded the full explanation.

"I am not used to this caring Dean. I was on my own for far too long." She couldn't hold his gaze.

"And I'm getting used to you caring so fast," thought Jo.

He squeezed her hand, letting her know that it was ok. He got it. He really did.

Yes, John died only last year, but with Mary being taken away from him when he was only four. Oh, he could relate very well. Though, he still got his little brother.

"And you are right," she said out of nowhere. "I am a total shit magnet."

"But, now you have me and Sam to watch your back." Dean declared simply.

And not only on the hunts was hanging in the air.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for reading! It means a lot! I'd love to know what you think :)**

 **Chapter 8**

 **we are getting there...***

 **where we cannot resist the truth...***

 **you are mine and i am long ago yours*****

They were standing at the door to their motel room, Dean was searching for the keys. The lights were out.

"Let's just pick the lock, it will be quicker," suggested Jo.

Dean agreed.

She fished her set of pick locks. "Some light?"

The door suddenly opened. "Hey guys, have you lost your key?"

"Something like that, Sam," said Jo, entering the room followed by Dean.

"You've taken the wrong bed, Sam," said the older brother with distinct annoyance.

"No, it is ok Dean. You and Jo should take it," said Sam groggily and went to the bed closer to the door.

Jo was staring at them, again feeling like she was lost due to some inner 'thing' between the brothers. Realizing that nobody would answer her mental dilemma she slipped pass them to the bathroom to get ready for the night grabbing her bag on the way.

She was bone tired. She wanted nothing more than crush on the bed and she didn't mind which one.

When she went out of the bathroom Sam was sleeping soundly again. Dean was at the table with computer watching some files.

"What's this? A new case?"

"May be, but I was just killing the time while waiting for the shower."

"Sorry, for keeping it long."

"Are you kidding, it was the fastest shower ever."

She gave him a smile.

After the shower she felt more picky about the sleeping place.

"I'll try to make little noise."

"Don't worry, I am so burnt out I will be out sooner than my head hit the pillow."

He chuckled and headed into the bathroom.

Despite being honest with Dean earlier now she wasn't able to fall asleep. The mix of thoughts circled in her head: _I am going to share the bed with Dean_ , then it followed by: _hey, the bed is huge. It's ok._ (the bed was standard). And people share. It's not a big deal. When the water in the bathroom stopped Jo locked her eyes feigning being asleep.

She couldn't know it, but Dean's thoughts were travelling along hers.

He was 27 and he hadn't _just_ shared a bed with a woman. It was a foreign concept that was promptly becoming a constant…

She was sleeping or was she? But he decided to play along. _Damn, why only one blanket?_

He laid down on his back. Closing his eyes he thought _I am not cold_.

May be one minute passed, may be one hour none of them would be able to say.

"You know that you can use the blanket, right?...I mean…if you are cold or something..."

She was totally flushed and relieved that Dean could not see it. Though he totally heard it in her voice.

"Thanks Jo," was all he said.

After a moment, when Dean got comfy under the blanket Jo asked, "Do you find it strangely not so strange?"

"Totally."

Dean was woken up by the terrible sound of shattering teeth. Jo was literally trembling from head to toes.

At first he thought that she was freezing but the moon lighted silent tears streaming freely from her eyes down her cheeks.

Nightmares. He was sad that he wasn't surprised.

Should he wake her up? His hand reached her cheek before his mind made a decision. The tremors stopped leaving little shakes in their wake. Still guided by the instinct he hugged her.

In her sleep she hugged him back.

She was family after all.

When Sam woke up he felt refreshed and full battery charged for the first time in a long run.

He chuckled seeing his brother and his "wife" sleeping together on the opposite bed. They were a tangled mess blissfully oblivious to their current state.

Should he have some fun or just be a good brother and bring some breakfast?

He chose the second option and after a pleasantly long shower (hey, he was the first to get up. He could use some perks.), he went out but not before leaving a note saying "went breakfast hunting."

Steadily falling of shower water broke Dean's unusually deep slumber.

He never opened his eyes straight away, not before assessing his surroundings.

To say that he was surprised to find a hot tight female body pressed to his was like saying nothing.

It took him at least 10 seconds to remember the events that could lead to such circumstances.

Strangely he wasn't distressed about his current predicament.

That's why when the shower stopped (he would kill Sam for running all the hot water later out) he made his mind to keep on "sleeping."

After Sam left, Dean opened his eyes.

Now he could see what he felt. Jo's light head was resting close to his heart, her hand dropped casually over his waist. She was peaceful. No nightmares.

He hoped that her nightmares could be cured if not erased.

Dean felt the slight change of breathing and heartbeat.

Jo woke up.

But like he himself, she was not in a hurry to open her eyes.

He decided to let her know that everything was good.

"Morning Jo."

Jo felt the rumble of deep raspy voice.

Dean saw her eyes fluttered and opened, the dark deep honey orbs instinctively found his.

"Good morning, Dean."

Neither of them commented on their close proximity. Neither moved.

It was so simple.

After some silence, Jo asked, "Where is Sam?"

"My guess, he went out to grab some breakfast."

"So nice of him."

"Oh no, believe me. He's the devil. He has used nearly all hot water," Jo's eyes were shining with indignation.

"I'll kill him!" She mocked.

Dean smiled, well his lips did this strange motion like stretching and turning up in the corners. It was very close to a smile. His eyes were only a little better than his lips.

And Jo wondered not for the first time what was the past of this man that made him so serious and strong, that made him aged before his time. What placed the lines on his forehead, in the corners of his eyes?

The silence was broken by Dean's quiet voice, "You can have the rest of it, woman."

She was genuinely touched by his offer.

Her face must have mirrored her emotions because Dean just shifted a little bit in the bed and said even more quiet, "Or we can share the rest of the hot shower water."

Jo eyes widen. Then she caught him barely suppressing his laughter. He was playing her!

She rolled out off the bed and went to the bathroom.

"What an asshole", fumed Jo.

When Jo was at the bathroom door she turned and caught him checking her out. His laughing though got quieter.

He didn't drop his eyes and met her fiery ones.

He wasn't laughing when he said, "You are beautiful Jo."

There words were out before he could understand how it happened. It was a natural slip of the mind.

"My _wife_ is beautiful!" Thought Dean.

Jo was like on the roller coaster with Dean. She slipped in the bathroom without any reply.

Standing under the warm water she couldn't make her heart stop racing.

She was getting used to his side of player more and more. She also knew that despite all playfulness Dean guarded his emotions covering them with cockiness. The change of masks was fast, but she felt like she saw the real Dean more often than he would really like to or ever allowed to...

Still! All this was new to her. She wasn't used to sharing the bed with a man even if the man was her 'so-called' _husband_.

But honestly speaking, she liked it.

All the thoughts rushed through her in a short period of time she was taking her shower on autopilot.

She made sure to leave some hot water to Dean.

Jo found Dean still lying in bed with his hand over his eyes.

"Are you fully dressed?" her enigma husband asked.

"That depends on what you deem fully." Jo decided to have a round at this game of his.

Dean smirked. Oh, how he was enjoying this game of theirs.

"I'm decent Dean, you can open your eyes."

"No, thanks. I like the picture in my mind."

A pillow hitting him accurately just a little bit billow his belly made him sit straight in the bed. Jo was attempting a glare but her lips were turning into a beautiful smile because Dean's expression was absolutely speechless. They broke into laughter simultaneously.

As it turned out teasing was a good kindle to light.

That's how Sam found them: laughing and throwing pillows.

It was so normal. But it was so not normal for them, so young but already seasoned hunters.

Sam welcomed the change with open heart.

With obvious regret, he broke the merry moment.

"Kids, I'm home! And I brought your favourities for breakfast!"

In response he was hit by two pillows.

"Hey!? What are you …" He didn't get the opportunity to finish his righteous exclamation because more pillows reached different parts of his body."

(They were very précised if you must know.)

He clearly heard, "Killer of hot water!" "Get him, Jo!"

"No tickling, mercy!" cried Sam. "Tomorrow, all hot water is yours!"

"I guess, the day after tomorrow also should be included."

After Jo's nonstop attack at his sides Sam accepted the offer and they all could enjoy the breakfast.

A little break, a little reprieve, a little hope. A little family moment.

They will need this fuel of lightness, camaraderie laugh to ride out what the road was getting ready for them.


	9. Chapter 9

**THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!**

 **The story is only alive while it is read. If it makes you feel or think, then it was not worthless...**

 **Your support gives wings to my inspiration.**

 **Chapter 9**

 ***** -TAKE A LOOK BACK- *****

 **Though Thick and Thin**

Dean was seeing red, though he was trying to act it cool on the outside.

He was sitting in the headquarters of this 'secret' organization.

And they were telling him among other stuff that in order to keep peace and secure safety he must marry a female hunter, his equal no less. Chosen and approved by them! For the greater good! For... - Fuck them!

Furthermore they were to have children and raise them in the hunting nature.

Were they nuts!?

They said it was "immutable law."

"That's how the things to be held, not going along with it can bring serious damage. Your mother's fate is a prove enough." The hard voice informed him.

That fact made him stop thinking about his plan of leaving this shithole (he got in touch with the "organisation" only in hope to find some info on Sam).

"What does my mother have to do with any of these? She wasn't even a hunter."

But his voice became very small by the end of the sentence.

The look on their faces scared him.

"Listen Dean, your mother, Mary was a hunter. She belonged to one of the oldest hunting families."

"My mother was a civilian." He tried to argue.

"She married a civilian. I agree with your latter statement. Your father was a military man but he was a civilian till Mary's death."

Dean kept Silence. The icy feeling of despair caged him.

He was trying to dig up something that could have proved what he was told. He wanted to gulp some whisky from his flask to melt the ice inside of him."

"Your mother rebelled, she left us," the faceless hard voice continue.

Every word was like a nail in Dean's heart.

"She didn't marry the approved suitor. Her family dishonored her. Dean, cannot you see? Irresponsibility is too much of a luxury. We have obligations and duties, we are.."

"Can I have a break?" Dean interrupted. "I need some fresh air." He didn't wait for permission. He stood and went to the door.

"I believe it's manageable."

Dean was sitting on the hood of the Impala, observing the perimeter, keeping his eyes open for any possible threats. A flask of whisky in hand.

Among all of the thoughts swirling in his head the news of his mother being a hunter surfaced every five seconds.

"Dean," he turned his head and saw Pastor Jim walking towards him.

"Did you know?" He attacked verbally seeing no need for more subtle approach.

"Yes, but it was not my place to talk."

"Did my father know?"

"Yes and no."

"What do you mean?"

"He never knew for sure, but he suspected about the organization. As for Mary's past," he paused "I really don't know."

After a short silence the pastor ventured - "You are a good man, Dean. I know you will do the right thing. Or I am a poor excuse of a pastor."

The words provided a reaction other than silence.

"I owe nothing to them. No marriage can save from death." Dean fired back bitter and angry.

"I know Dean. But I also knew your father, he was my **friend** and I know how he raised you and Sam."

"What happens if I leave?"

"She is either yours or theirs."

Dean's darkened eyes stared pastor Jim down.

"You are her chance out Dean!" Exclaimed the pastor who was known for being always a reserved one, now he was sounding close to a backlash. "Don't make me regret my choice!" Dean's eyes widened.

"I did my best to 'free' her." He finished with resignation. The facade of calmness fell in place.

The intensity of the talk was broken as the door of the nearest to them construction burst open and a girl ran out.

She rushed passed them leaving a cloud of light hair and strong presence of gun powder.

She was fast like lighting. And if they were on her way, Dean was sure that they would not be the obstacle.

Though Pastor Jim obviously recognized her. He sighed tiredly. "I need to take care of it," he said already going after the light blur.

"Sure..."

There was no fight left in his voice. There were no solid constants left in Dean's life anymore. Sam was missing. His father was dead. His mother became an unknown person. Hunters were something more than devastated people with ruined lives who chose to protect the innocent ones...To top it off now he got himself in the viper's nest.

They were sitting at a round table. How _pathetic_ thought Dean, what a lame imitation of equal rights. It was a good, old wooden table. Massive and with history. A group of 12 could sit comfortably at it. Now it homed only three. Holstein, the chief one, was sitting in what could be seen as a center of the table. The entrance of the room defined the hierarchy of each seat. Dean was sitting on the opposite side to Holstein who was talking to Pastor Jim. Their voices were muffled. The door opened and the girl walked in. She carried a strong presence of gun powder. She took a spot between two parties.

Holstein's authoritative voice broke the relative silence but not the tension.

"Dean, this is Joanna Beth Harvelle. Joanna, this is Dean Winchester."

"I prefer Jo," said the girl. Her voice was cool and confident. She raised her head higher and squared her shoulders even more than before.

"Hello, Jo." Dean's voice was kind of probing. Devoid of any color really.

When Jo met his eyes she realized that he was studying her face. He didn't break the eye contact. Neither did she. It was not a contest, more of a search. They were reading each other.

In a booming voice Holstein declared - "You are both aware of your obligations and what must be done. The ceremony will take place immediately after the end of this meeting. Dare you not to follow through with it you will be severed from the Safety Net and be no longer under its protection and care."

These words seemed to make both young people to change the course of their stares and glare at Holstein.

"May we have a few words alone?" Asked Dean. This time his voice yielded to strength.

"Of course," said Pastor Jim promptly standing.

Holstein was more reluctant to leave but followed the pastor nevertheless.

With the sound of the closed door they were free from the stalking eyes (though Dean was never sure) Jo stood up and came up to him. She took the chair next to him. She was almost leaning into him, her hair disclosing her lips, she whispered into his ear - "You realize that they still can see and perhaps even hear us?"

"I thought as well. Any ideas?"

"Come." She took his hand and pulled him after her.

She came up too close. Now Dean knew her scent, the warmth of her eyes, the melody of her voice, the touch of her skin.

It made him tremble inside because till then he knew her as a nameless girl pinned to the ceiling and tortured by fire, a girl with sun-shine hair and chocolate eyes forcing the darkness out of his dreams.

And now he knew that her name was Jo...

Still holding hands they were passing the intricate corridors of the main building when a group of people with Holstein in the front blocked their way.

Jo confronted him with her head held high.

"It's ok, Holstein. I'm just taking Dean to meet my parents and then we will start the ceremony." Jo squeezed Dean's hand letting him know to keep shut and play along. "Of course if it is ok with you?" She added in a placating tone meant to ensure some note of respect thought Dean. _Smart_.

"It's alright, Jo. Don't keep long though. We will be ready when you come back."

"Thank you. Holstein."

Dean followed her silently still squeezing her small cold fingers.

They reached the cemetery.

Sadness was the queen of this place. And Dean succumbed to the mistress.

Jo let go of his hand and reached a simple stone, tenderly shadowing the letters of the names with the tips of her fingers.

Dean was sure he got the right picture. He looked at the girl's face. She brought a competition to this royal court - acceptance. He respected her strength.

"When did they pass away?" It was more of a wind whisper but Jo still caught it. Though a little detached she said - "I was 12."

Still touching the stone, she continued more businesslike - "I have a plan Dean."

"I'm all ears."

She inhaled sharply, turned to him and went on. "We play their little sham, we get marry. We leave this place. We even take the test case to throw them off. When we lull their vigilance enough we can split. And we will deal with their shit threats of bad fate when we cross this bridge."

It was a well formulated plan. It was simple. It could work.

But it were his nightmares that sealed the deal for him.

He said just - "Okay." But to her it was solid enough.

They shook hands. Hers was warmer than he remembered.

The simple plan got not so simple.

They vowed to protect each other, to be solid partners, to be through thick and thin together as a family.

Maybe the sham could work out with somebody else, but the man and woman who said the vows, valued family too high for that, knew how precious it was, knew how it was to live without one.

Maybe it was time to learn what it was like when there was someone who cared.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N 1.** **Dear Diane Langley, C1B12** **y** **our feedback is like a Christmas for my soul.**

 **More importantly, it is reassuring!**

 _ **MeloDy, how-to-save-a-life, ToInfinityMyLove, thewatchtower300341 - Thank you!**_

 **A/N 2.** I guess, some of you might got tired of the time jumping in the story... it might be confusing. But believe me it is all planned.

 **A/N 3. Editing this chapter, I felt that I had to put a warning here and remind you that this is all fiction.**

 **Chapter 10 Hot Blooded**

We live in a swirl of facts, events and emotions...

One always feels emotions most and chooses them as a realm to drawn in. The other sticks to facts as they are the reliable ones and cannot betray. But events define the one's true character. They show who you are, what you are like. They don't allow 'what if' and 'if I were'. They push you to seeing the fact and they demand you to feel.

 **THE ROAD SO FAR**

...they had taken a lot, but it was only their first 20 miles from a hundred; the story of each hunter spiraled fast, like a colored ribbon of facts, events and emotions.

Dean's and Jo's ribbons were on the way to become one. A stronger one. They shared facts, events and emotions.

They were winding their way from the state of Wyoming. Brothers wanted to visit Sioux Falls. Jo didn't mind at all. The further from Holstein the better. She wasn't naïve about the question of distance. She knew perfectly well that distance wouldn't save them from the Safety Net. It had connections everywhere. But distance could give them time to recuperate and prepare.

They were at something like a 'roadhouse'/shop/gas station. It was perfect to freshen up, fill up the tank and grab something not so junky to eat. Jo was currently enjoying strong black and, what was more important, hot coffee. She didn't listen to what the brothers were talking silently following them just two strides.

Her mind was busy with Dean and _emotions_ that she experienced being close to him. He didn't mention splitting up as the initial plan supposed.

She needed to know for a _fact_ where they stood.

He said that she was a family.

They didn't plan on sticking together at least that was the deal before the ceremony. But saying the vows, pronouncing these simple but genuine eternal verities invoked to her soul. Then and there she promised herself that no matter what she would protect the hunter. It was all like he had said, they were partners. She would just have to find out the definition of this partner thing.

She was brought out of her thinking by the casual line - "Do you need anything else Jo?" Dean was looking at her with some hint of amusement. Sam was nowhere around.

"No, I'm good." She could feel a blush started creeping out. Take a grip girl. You shared the bed with this man like it was not a big deal.

"Are you sure?" He faked worry. "You look a little... " He paused like he was looking for a word - "flushed and - "

"Oh, come on!" She huffed.

"Admit it, you were in a dreamland." Dean said merrily.

He was so cocky. It was bordering on annoying. It was bordering on pleasant bickering. It was bordering on fun!

"But now I am back and we can go." Then, as if, after a thought she added almost seductively - "For your information, I think you would love this particular dream of mine!"

Just like that she simply walked around him and went on. Like it was the most natural thing. She made a couple of steps, then turned and winked.

Who was he kidding, he was hooked.

 _You don't have to read my mind, to know what I have in mind  
Honey you oughta know  
Now you move so fine, let me lay it on the line  
I wanna know what you're doin' after the show_

They were half way to the cashier's desk when they caught up with Sam. He looked at his brother. Dean was grinning like a Cheshire cat. Jo was spotting the same grin.

"Did I miss something?"

"Yes!"

"No!"

No one dwelled.

Sam looked them around. He caught the heated look exchanged between the couple and nothing else.

"Can you grab some more coffee, Jo?" Asked Sam.

"Sure. I'll take some for all of us. It's really good." She said already turning and going to the back of the building where vending machine with coffee was located.

"See you at the cashier's desk" Dean called out after her. "Don't get lost in a la-la land."

"Only with you!" She shouted back already hidden by the shopping shelves.

The air was pierced with the sound of tires screeching on the road and broken glass. Screams. Only lying on the cold dirty floor, covered by some products from the near shelves Jo realized that these were real machine gun rounds flying over her head.

Panic. What was happening?

It was an attack? But what for… they were in the middle of God forgotten place, there was nothing... valuable...

Then everything stilled.

At first she could distinctly hear the scrap of glass under the boots. Then the voices followed. She reached for her gun, cursing mentally for not having the extra charges.

"Ready or not? I'm gonna find you all. The voice was screeching like, intoxicated by the power, sucking and hollow. This voice belonged to a sick person. "Percy, Peter join the party." Jo cringed. Trying to move soundlessly she rose to sneak a look behind the shelves to locate the attackers. The one doing all the talk was nearer to her. He was waving his machine gun in different directions with no particular aim.

To the left were two men with gun machines who really resembled pigs. She looked for Dean and Sam but the floor to the cashier's desk was covered with lifeless bodies of unknown men.

She thought she could see the blood traces but the words of the crazy one chilled the blood in her body "Check the place for girls. Clean the rest of worthless stuff."

She must act and fast Was there any other choice?

Three clean shots. That was what she needed. All those endless practice hours were for this and not for the bar hustle. She cleared her mind, closed her eyes and visualized the targets. Her gun was a continuation of her mind and hand.

The air was pierced by three shots.

She had to make control shots. There couldn't be any surprises. She stepped anxiously towards the bodies. Smoke was leaving through the blooded forehead holes. Jo pushed away the machine guns from their deadly grasps.

The leader was missing. F*ck! She ducked under the nearest structure and checked the perimeter.

She knew she had got him...

Was he **really** something else than human?

She needed to find Dean, Sam.

He must be ok.

He was standing behind Sam.

She would disclose his location for the "sick wolf" but she would have to go through with that risk. She started dialing his number, then Sam's.

Nothing. Silence.

Following the blood trace wasn't the brightest thing but it would have to do.

She felt it. As soon as she left her temporary hiding spot she could feel the hateful eyes watching her.

If Dean had been all right he would have found me, thought Jo. That's why she knew she was the one to drag them all out of this shit. She moved quickly but cautiously along the blood marks. They were ending at the service room. There was blood on the handle. She turned it. It seemed locked.

Slammed to the wall Jo nearly lost her consciousness. Her vision quickly became darken; the air couldn't reach her lungs, a ton of a man crushing her to the floor.

He would not lose her. It could not happen. She would be all right. She had to or... well, he would never live with her death.

She saved them. She saved them all.

He caught her lifeless face in the rear-view mirror. He floored the gas pedal.

Sam was conscious but not much of a help. He had barely enough strength to keep on pressing some cloth to his bullet wounds. Red mess was everywhere.

Dean felt dizzy and ready to pass out himself. He was running on the adrenaline which was fading fast.

Both Sam and he were like some famous cheese. Only their holes were oozing blood.

And Jo...in the bright sunny light ... she was white, and red, and grey, and small. And he was not in time to prevent it.

At last they reached what had looked like hospital. Medical workers were already there, waiting for them. Thank God! Some people still did their job!

He tried to push them away saying that he was fine. That he was not the one who they had to take care.

The adrenaline must have gone out because he was finding it hard to fight the medical staff. He saw Jo being carried in, then Sam...He couldn't follow them... He was losing the sight of them...

It was like an hour ago, they were at that gas shop ...ready to get out but...it all went to hell.

The real life smashed them and made them bleed. They were just humans...

Lying on the hospital bed, Dean didn't feel pain, he was there...

The machine gun rounds got Sam bad. He was right in front of Dean and shielded him literary. But pieces of glass caught Dean.

He was able to drag Sam to the staff room. He would have gone after her as soon as he fixed Sam.

But time worked against him. He hoped that Jo would find some cover to sit out.

But it was a lost hope.

He heard five clear gunshots.

Jo.

And then everything went oh so fast.

The door handle started turning but the door itself never opened.

He could hear the noise of a fight. He tried to move faster but it was like his body was betraying him.

He pushed the door opened.

What he saw made his blood grew cold and ignite with fire simultaneously. Who knew if that was possible!?

That bastard was on top of her, chocking her.

Red. He fired the whole charger.

He would not lose her. It could not happen. She would be all right. She had to or... well, their simply were not other options.

* * *

The lyrics belongs to Foreigner, "Hot Blooded"


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **You Are My Mirror That Can't Lie (Part 1)**

The sterile scent hit him. "Must be hospital..." surfaced through his fuzzy mind. Then the wave of numb pain washed over him.

The pain killers effected his body but they could not affect the feeling of anxiety settled deep inside his being. It was stronger than physical pain. It overpowered any other feeling. He needed to know where his family was. He could not take a proper breath not because his chest was like a stone but because he had no idea what his brother's and wife's condition was.

It was four days ago. It was five days after the attack.

He was the first to return from the black out. That day he spent alone between Sam, Jo and building the cover up story for three dead bodies. The local police had only left to say 'thank you' on the part of the survived victims to "the agents working undercover".

Cuts, bruises and concussion out Dean was healing on schedule. He checked himself out.

He was alone in a white sterile 'kingdom' following its guidelines, quickly becoming a well-versed resident.

On the second day his brother's condition was declared "out of danger." He was released from the ICU and transferred to the standard room for observation. Dean hated that his younger brother had had to go through so much. He hated that he was helpless to prevent it. He hated that he couldn't protect his brother even from the natural evil of their life.

He felt relieved that his brother was alive. Grateful.

Jo..

She was stable. Her condition was critical but stable. He had to reassure himself constantly that she was alive. But he could not be grateful.

Her body shut off to sustain the stress and trauma. She went through the prolonged oxygen deprivation. Mass bruising, broken ribs. But it was the head trauma that hindered the process of recovery.

His sleeping beauty was in a la-la land. And he was not charming enough to get her back to the real world.

As a husband (and a federal agent) he could be with her regardless of the visiting hours.

He spent most of the time in her room which could be considered an ordinary room, one of many they stayed in: a simple room with one bed, a couple of chairs, a little table, a small window. But this room was too clean and too white. And this room hosted the medical equipment and its even buzz, medicine in the air and cocktail of hope and desperation. His world squeezed to the size of this hospital room, her room. The hospital their kingdom.

He either sat in one of the chairs..

"You saved us all, girl. You'll get over it. Your are tough." He would encourage her. (or himself)

Or he stood over the window.

"They were just people, Jo. Sick humans." He would say angrily.

He squeezed her hand tighter. "You were so sharp, baby." He would say with hope.

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Jo was examined by a small army of specialists.

Dean was marching in front of her closed door room.

Sam was sitting in one of the hospital chairs for family and friends. He was still technically in the patient status but his condition and 'professional occupation' allowed him more freedom.

When he returned from the black out he was relieved to see his brother being OK. But it was a short-term relief as every time Sam got to see his brother again Dean would look more drained and closed up.

Having had enough, Sam demanded -"Dean, you need to calm down. She **will** need you in one hundred per cent operating mode."

He exploded. "I cannot! I cannot relax, ok?"

Sam raised his voice as well."You **must** do it!" Without giving it a second thought he dropped - "Otherwise she'll become a widow pretty soon."

He understood it himself. (Thank you very much!)

Sam was watching his brother carefully. He was ready for this battle.

Dean exhaled loudly. It seemed that any strength for argument left him with that breath.

"Will you bring me some coffee." He hated the taste of this hospital brown liquid. But anything to make his brother leave him be. At least for now...

Sam decided not to push further. For now. "I'd better get you a sandwich as well. You are dwindling on my eyes." He muttered accusingly.

"Does not matter" thought Dean, "It would be tasteless. And I don't care..."

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Sam found his brother in Jo's room. He put the sandwich and coffee on the table. Dean ignored the food.

Probing the grounds Sam began - "Dean, any progress?"

"No, the same." He replied unenthusiastically. They said 'stable', 'give her time'."

"No news, good news, right?" Sam took the other chair in the room and sat on the opposite side from Dean.

"NO!" Dean lost his cool and shouted with anger. "It's not damn good!" He said in a low but still hard voice.

Sam knew that his brother blamed himself. It was time to call him out on it.

"Dean, it was not your fault. I was shot, you were sliced. It is as much your fault as it is mine then."

Sam knew his brother, he could read through his usual closed demeanor. He saw that his words didn't even get a chance to be considered. Dean's mask of angriness was slipping though.

There was something haunting in Dean's eyes. Sam saw the rare vulnerability displayed openly without any cover.

"You know, I swore to protect her." Dean's tone was timid. He wasn't looking at his brother. "I failed to fulfill the vow but she didn't."

He was looking at Jo. "I failed you."

Sam felt like a shiver ran through him. He never heard his brother to sound so hollow, so broken.

It was like his brother forgot that he was still there. Sam could see, hear and feel the depth of his brother's caring. He hoped that this girl would wake up and soon.

"I'm sorry Jo, I failed you."

A sharp beep broke the poignant moment. The images on monitors of the machines changed the patterns, the even buzz shifted its dynamics.

Her eyelids fluttered.

Dean forgot to breath.

Sam rushed out to get the help.

With the sleeping beauty's awakening, the kingdom's decorum changed. Their room got far too crowded.

 **"Jo, listen to me! It is ok! Everything is ok!**

 **"You did great!"**

 **"You did the best!"**

 **He wanted her to know...**

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Everything was unclear, bleak and painful.

Her hand was comfortingly warm.

Her fingers were interlaced with much bigger and stronger ones.

She wanted to squeeze them back and let him know that she was there.

She tried hard and even harder...Never the one to give up. Jo maid a faint whisper.

Sam heard a hopeful sound

Dean reached forward to Jo's face

"Hey, partner. You are here..."

"Dean?!" She thought she cried but it was a rasp whisper.

Medical workers were pushing him outside...

"We got it under control, sir. Please let us do our work."

"Jo, listen to me! It is ok! Everything is ok!

"You did great!"

"You did the best!"

 **He wanted her to know...**

 **A/N**

Thank you for reading!

 **C1B12,** every time I got your review I wish that I could write you back. Alas...I have to publish something so that I could let you know what a reassuring effect you reviews have on me!

 **Diane Langley** , I am happy that I can let you know how I value and appreciate your constructive and deep reviews!

 **I am looking forward to your reviews.**

I plan to post the second part of this chapter this weekend.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 2**

 **You Are My Mirror That Can't Lie (Part 2)**

 _...under his voice gruff and hollow . .. it lacked the swagger, the mirth._

They were on the road again. A short detour only brought them back on track that they could not escape as it was theirs by the right of birth.

The track was taking them further from the gas station, from Holstein, from the life that they each had before.

But no matter how many miles they put away from them the nightmares didn't leave Jo.

She thought that brothers didn't know, but they knew.

She tried to act cool and let it go, forget and move forward because it was the only right way to survive...

It was another city, another motel room, another case, but the nightmares were always the same.

They healed enough to hunt. And it was good, because hunting made them busy. It was the distraction, their 'normal', the well-known territory that they longed-for.

They were sitting around the room, studying files for their current case to make sure that there were no lose ends.

Once and again Jo would shift her body trying to send away the pain.

It was awkward. Dean wanted her to rest but he also knew that she wouldn't listen to any of it. Instead she would insist that her injuries were getting better. The occasional muffled cries of pain and loud intakes of breath proved wrong though.

It was getting darker. The air of routine activity changed with Jo standing and nearly falling to make the first couple of steps. They played along and didn't comment. Dean's back only slightly tensed before Jo caught the back of the chair. Sam almost felt how his brother corked himself up not to rush and steady her.

When the bathroom door closed, Sam's concerned voice broke the stilled air of silence.

"You know that she mustn't go with us on this hunt, right?"

"She won't hear any of it that's what's right... Truth sucks as always, right?"

Dean's voice was strangely detached. He was holding back not to say something to Sam. The latter could hear desperation and resignation.

The water was running in the shower. She was taking too long. Dean wanted her out of the confined room. He couldn't relax. He wanted always to be able to watch her.

Sam noticed that Dean was reading the same page for far too long. He decided to call him on it but Dean was the first to make a move.

"Sam, can you bring dinner in? I think we shouldn't go out tonight."

Sam was a bit surprised but followed with the plan. If his brother wanted him out he could give him that.

Sam was already in the door way when Dean called after him. - "And buy some really good stuff, you know, what the girls would dig, the healthy and what not." He stood. Sam could not believe what he was hearing. "Here," Dean threw Sam some credit cards and some cash. He caught all on instinct more than on real need, which he let his brother now.

"I have money, you know." Muttered Sam. But it was useless. Dean was already out of any conversation. All his attention was on the closed bathroom and the girl inside.

Sam huffed but left them be. It was high time they talked about what had happened.

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Dean knocked on the door and was greeted by silence.

"Jo, it's Dean. I really need to use the bathroom." In his head it sounded better than "How are you?"

He noticed she didn't like when people fussed over her, and like he himself, she better reacted to provocation.

Silence.

He left the bathroom door to get the pick lock.

People say, that money could open all the doors, so he used one of many credit cards. And, well the lock was broken.

The picture he saw knocked out all the air from his chest.

A little girl was sitting in the shower. Her head was hidden in her knees and her hands were squeezing her legs in a tight lock.

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Jo could not miss a normal life. How could she miss something what she had never had? But she was missing the normal that she had had. Her normal. Her parents: crazy and tough, kind and wise. The feeling of being not alone, of being needed.

The glimpses of that feeling returned when she met Dean. He and Sam made her remember what it was like when you were not alone.

When your life was more than a constant quest to survive on your own.

Being on the road with the brothers she felt like being in a family. Having Dean in her life made her think of the future in rather brighter colors than dull ones.

But...

But...The facts were deteriorating her future with brothers.

Her latest stay in the hospital left her broken. It took all the color from her future. It was threatening to take away 'her normal'.

She was tired. Oh, God! How she wanted the pain in her chest to go away. It choked her. He was choking out the last energy she had. At night he was in her nightmares, she could feel his heavy body pressing her to the cold floor of the gas station, she was reliving it all. During the day she couldn't detach herself from the physical evidence of how weak she was. It seemed she could not drift in it any further. And she was drowning in her pain. She wanted to find the straw to get out of that monochrome feeling of pain.

The straw came in the shape of an angry and soothing voice, in the feeling of being shaken... and slapped! It was another kind of pain. It didn't pull to the bottom. It was the pain caused by caring and concern. That pain brought her to the surface of her sea and Dean helped her by carrying to the shore.

"Jo! Jo, listen t' me! What d' you think yu are doin' here, huh?!"

She was trying to focus oh so big brown eyes on him. And she nearly succeeded.

"Blink or something, that you understand me."

She did. He could feel her shaking.

"I need you out of these cold wet clothes. You do it yourself or I'll help you!"

At first he thought that he managed to break through to her and she would cooperate. But she was a boneless rack doll with too big brown eyes.

He used one of his thickest shirts , cocooned her in a blanket and settled her in the furthest bad from the door. He could see the dried traces of salt lines on her face. Her breath evened out. She was asleep.

He did all he could. Did he?

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When Sam returned with full bags of dishes with delightful aroma, he caught his brother packing the duffle bags.

Jo was sleeping.

"Hey, what is going on?" He reached his brother to inquire quietly not to wake the passed out member of their team.

"We are taking care of this case tonight."

Sam recognized the machine killer mode that his brother was in. You could cooperate or.. you would be pushed to cooperate. Either way, Sam shut his stubborn strike and started getting heady.

Delicious food was left unneeded in a small kitchen nook.

Dean cared enough to be hated. He would go through with it. It would be nothing new. It would be the routine (the normal). He was ready to take full responsibility for his actions.

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It hurt like hell. He thought that his back was missing a good chunk, but somehow he was still standing on his own two feet. And his wife was safe.

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He felt her entering the bathroom. He didn't turn, only stopped washing the blood out from his hands.

"Dean you went without me." It was a statement and it wasn't wearing any hint of question. "Thank you... And thank you for taking me along. I am a useless mess." There was no fight in her voice. It was wrong. It scared him, because he got used to fire in her attitude, in her eyes.

He turned. She wasn't meeting his eyes.

Seeing her so lost and hurt...it was shattering him. He looked at her and saw only his faults that lead to that.

"Jo," He never continued till she met his eyes. "I am sorry. I failed you."

"What?! What are you talking about? This is me who is useless. I am a ballast."

"Stop! Stop saying that! You saved Sam and me there! You save the people. It is me who always puts you in peril." He was angry.

"I.." Jo seemed to lose her breath for arguments. She was weak. She hated feeling weak. She hated being useless, being not able to back up her partner, to protect her family. "I don't want to be useless Dean. I just can't live with it."

"You are not useless!" He was outraged. "You are my partner! You watch my back! You -"

"That's exactly my point Dean!" She interrupted him with desperation and anger. "Good," thought Dean, "She started fighting back."

Jo went on more calmly, - "I am not watching your back, I've failed you. I am not good. I am a weak, inexperienced girl."

"Oh, Jo. You are definitely a girl (there's no way to argue with it, he thought) I would add, a stubborn girl (and beautiful) but in no way you are weak! As for inexperienced, what I've seen so far - you are far way from a rookie."

"And that's why there is this ugly bruise on your back!?"

"Hey, you were not even there!"

"And why I wasn't even there? Because I was not good enough -..." She choked on her words and turned around to cover her face.

A quiet voice reached her, a warm hand gently pulled her by the wrist.

"Say, what do you think of me s a hunter Jo? Am I any good?"

"You are natural Dean." She breathed out without any hesitation.

"So are you, Jo!" He stated softly, placing a calming hand on her neck, stopping her from hiding her eyes. "And as crazy as this Safety Net, they told us that we are equal. So, you are natural, you are good." She wanted to believe him.

"Jo, it was my choice to go without you. As your partner I care enough about you and our family. I can't endanger it by a hunt. You just need time."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

He was looking at her, holding her. And he knew that he would never let her go: this stubborn, caring and selfless girl...His stubborn, strong, caring, selfless and beautiful wife.

She saw a range of emotions in his eyes. She could almost name them. May be it was time to say them.

"Did you feel it? When we were saying the vows..." Asked Jo.

"Yes." He breathed it out. "Only then I didn't understand what it meant."

"And do you understand it now?" She whispered.

"Yes. Now I know it for sure." His gaze was burning through her. Then she felt like warmth started spreading from the tips of her fingers to her heart. A hot, like lava wave gently pulled her from the sea of doubts when his strong voice broke the silence. "You are my wife. You are my partner, you are my savior, my friend and you are a m..-" She put a finger on his lips silencing him. She was standing so close to him. It was his fire that spread through her and kept her warm and cherished.

He saw like her eyes were brimming with emotions that he felt. And ...tears?

"What's wrong, Jo?"

"I'm afraid."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid of losing this, you, us...my family, what you say I am to you." He exhaled and destroyed the last inches that were separating them. He enclosed her in a strong and giving hug. "Me too, Jo..me too." He whispered.

"But for the now, would you like to give a chance to our marriage and make the most of it. Not because of the Safety Net order, but because **we** want it.

"Because **we** want it." She mirrored him.

* * *

A/N

Hate/Love/Doubt? (i think about it a lot...)

Wish you all a good day! Let it be sunny either with the help of nature or the people around you.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 **Fear**

A single world with such a power. Fear...

Fear of being not enough.

Fear of being helpless.

Fear of being doomed.

They all had fears. But they didn't let fears control them. They resisted. It was a hard game they had to play constantly. They got used to play it by being in a recluse during the fight.

And so they each wandered the similar roads but alone. Each of them had their own tricks to control the fears.

It was hard to trust your fears to the other player.

Because It was one of the fears.

But when that fear was pushed beyond the border of significance, trust became the weapon and allay.

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They were sitting at the table, eating the delicious food that Sam managed to find out in this little town. Food that even microwave reheating wasn't able to diminish.

Sam caught on Dean and Jo talking with their eyes once and again. Something definitely has changed.

Between his food hunting and the actual hunting on vampires that Dean and he took care without Jo.

When they returned all bruised and bloody (the vampire's nest effectively washed out), Jo was fully awake sitting at the very same table that they all shared now. She appeared calm and withdrawn. Though Sam caught her reaction when she saw in what state they were. She winced. Her eyes got that hunted look. She was sad. She was relieved to see them in one piece...mostly anyway.

It was Dean who had caught the most fight. But he insisted that he was fine and he was standing on his own two feet.

He went to the bathroom and Jo followed him silently. But not before making sure that Sam was fine.

They spent quite some time in the bathroom but he could hear some voices and presumed that they were both all right.

Observing their interaction now Sam felt that something had changed and still remained the same.

His brother was smiling and laughing. Jo's eyes were shinning.

He noticed that now and then her hand would catch Dean's and vice versa.

At last, he thought. All bruised but laughing. Gone the tension, gone the guilt, gone the tormented brother and a shadowy girl.

Being so immerced in his thoughts Sam didn't caught the shift of the mood around the table.

"Why are you smirking?" asked Dean.

"What? Well, I'm...well, I am not!" Dean looked unconvinced.

He followed Sam's gaze. It landed him on Jo's and his own fingers interlaced and displayed on the table.

Jo assessed the situation.

"Dean," said Jo with a smile, "I think we should let Sam in on our decision about the marriage thing."

"You are right," said Dean lightly squeezing her hand.

"Sam, We decided to give our marriage situation a shot."

A pause.

No comment.

"So, Jo is officially your sister in law."

A pause.

The spouses were looking at him. Obviously waiting for his reaction.

"She had been for quite some time." said Sam. The smile he gave Jo was sincere.

Dean thought that he was surprised... but he really wasn't. It was his little brother and he couldn't expect less than what he just heard.

He would be surprised if Sammy said differently.

The next pause was broken by Sam's chuckle.

"I can't help but wonder what would Bobby say if he knew."

"Oh, you'll have the chance to find out Sam." said Dean effectively sweeping of the last piece of steak. Swiftly chewing he continued, "We talked and we worked out the next move that had to be done. We need to patch ourselves and get in shape. Bobby's perfect...That steak was perfect... What do you think?"

It was not that he really had something against Bobby's, but Sam also felt like it was a made up plan. His brother worked it out not with him.

"What do you think?" His brother repeated the question.

And it was not like a one way ticket anymore.

Dean was searching his brother's true reply by the clues that only older brothers knew.

The fear of being left out was washed away in a bud.

"Bobby's sounds like a good plan, guys."

There were different types of fears.

Not all fears had to be fight in a solitude.

* * *

" **FEAR** has two meanings:

Forget Everything And Run or

Face Everything And Rise

The Choice is Yours" Zig Ziglar

A/N Next chapter will be at Bobby's


	14. Chapter 14

**I want to say a BIG thank you to C1B12 and Diane Langley, my active reviewers. You help me to get better!**

 **I also want to say thank you to the silent redears, and those who put this story on the 'map' by clicking "Favourite" and "Follow":** **MeloDy, happymeami, ToInfinityMyLove,** **thewatchtower300341** **!**

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

 **At Bobby's (part 1)**

"Dean, oh come on man! You've made more than enough." Whined Sam.

Bobby only chuckled, 'kids'.

"What have I told you Sam," admonished Dean, "It's for Jo." He put the plate with waffles further from Sam.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I took just one…" After a thought he added, "They really smell divine."

Dean played deaf ear to his brother's flattery. "Bobby, just make sure that he won't touch them."

The old man looked up from the book he was reading. "Ok."

"Am I a three year old?" peeped Sam.

"No, but you act like the one." Cut back Dean good-naturedly.

Observing the brothers over the book, Bobby could have sworn that Dean was one step away from ruffling his brother's hair. That would set off the major fit…The older brother took the glass of water instead and made his way out of the kitchen.

"I'll go check up on Jo."

"Dean," Bobby called after, "treat her with the coffee, it will help her to wake up better than water."

Dean stepped back. One look at the old hunter and he decided not to argue.

"Thanks."

Sam drinking his own coffee smirked.

"Watch it." Mouthed Dean to his brother.

Bobby huffed and returned to the book.

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Bobby didn't see Sam for more than two years. He visited him several times while he was at college (under the radar of course). He respected Sam's decision to let the hunting go. He just felt bitter that it could only be one side decision, and hunting world would not let go so simple. The fact that Sam was in his kitchen today was only the proof.

He saw a young man, easy-going, a happy little brother, a hunter…but looking into his eyes Bobby saw the roots of the deep sorrow. The kind of that could hardly be healed by time. The one just had to learn to bear with it. Bobby saw it because he knew from the personal experience.

Dean. Where should he start?

The brothers were obviously after a serious hunt, more like after a session of hunts.

Their visit wasn't a surprise but when he opened the door and the street lamp showed that instead of two boys he got Dean with a girl in his hands and Sam with three duffle bags…

Dean was adamant to settle the girl first and then all the questions.

Bobby was not happy with that… He wanted to know what he was dealing with. But he had to concede.

Dean…with Dean's layers of clothes and hard exterior you could never tell the extent of his injuries. And the stubborn idjit would keep saying that he was fine even when he was not. But he was standing on his own two feet (like he always liked to point out), bickering with his brother… all right here… but making breakfast. That was a first. It's not like Dean couldn't cook. He could. He just never fussed about it that much. But they all passed the test of holy water…well.

The girl…for who all this commotion was about hadn't undergone his test yet. Though Dean vouched for her, you could never be too sure. That's where coffee went in.

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Refreshment.

This feeling was elusive for so long. She could not remember when was the last time she felt so much rested and ready for the day. And actually looking forward to meet the events of the day. She barely remembered how they got to - she assumed - Bobby's.

It was mostly nonstop road trip. Only absolutely necessary breaks for the restroom. At least from her part.

It was like they didn't want anything else to restrain them from their final destination. Bobby's. A man that obviously meant a lot to the brothers…During the ride they reminisced about the man and stories with him... She must have passed out during one of those stories. Last thing she remembered was the feel of cool sheets and Dean's warm chest as her pillow.

Now she was alone in the bed. The room was bathing in sun. 'If birds start chirping I will worry.' Thought Jo. It would be too perfect to be real. The bedroom didn't have much furniture. And books covered most of the surfaces. They were the furniture. To the left of the bed was a window. Its sill was littered with numerous books that looked really old. Books gave the feeling of being in a library - section 'major research'. They gave away the comfort feeling. There was a chest in the foot of the bed and Jo wondered what she would find there...Books?! She chuckled.

She was in the process of reaching the chest to check her guess when the doorknob turned and Dean came in. Book mystery forgotten Jo felt like her heart started beating faster. She didn't want to admit it but even if the birds were chirping it would still not be perfect. To wake up alone without him was never 'perfect' to her.

His eyes were smiling, his hands were occupied with a cup of something smelling like a delicious coffee and a glass of ...water.

"Good morning, Jo." He made himself comfortable sitting beside her.

"Morning, Dean. Is it coffee?" She reached for the cup.

"Yes and ... It's mine!" He raised his coffee hand higher effectively preventing her attempt to get the beverage.

She frowned. 'He can't be serious.' She thought.

Smirking he passed her the glass of water. "First this." She took the glass watching him carefully.

"The coffee still better be mine." She threatened him half heartedly.

With now free hand he reached inside the left side of his flannel shirt revealing a cloud of wildflowers: white with yellow, blues turning into violet hues melting into pink.

Watching her carefully he put the small cloud of wildflowers into the glass with water that she was holding between them.

She knew that he wasn't looking at the flowers. She met his gaze.

His serious eyes were holding the question.

"Love it." She breathed out.

She saw like her words brought back the hue of 'tease' nature in his eyes.

"Enough, that I could be pardon?"

She touched his cheek tenderly not ready to let go this beautiful moment, that side of him.

" **You** are always enough." … She whispered.

 _"Dean! Did she like the coffee?"_ The loud cry from the downstairs made them startle.

He smashed his hand over his face and rested his head on her shoulder.

He was leaning into her and Jo could feel the silent rambles that were shattering his frame.

"I guess, now I must share my coffee with you." He sounded horse, on the edge of laughing.

He straightened and passed the coffee to her. "Just take a sip."

She looked at him bewildered. "I'll tell you later."

She took a sip. Then a couple of more gulps.

"Hmm, delicious."

"She says it's delicious!" (Was it necessary to cry so loud?!)

" _Ok!_ " a faceless cry confirmed.

After that Dean stood and went to the door. "Enjoy the coffee. We are waiting for you downstairs in the kitchen. It's right on the left when you go down the stairs."

"I'll take a shower."

"Which is to the right. When you go out of the room, pass a couple of doors. Actually I can see you off there. I don't want you to get lost." He carried on jokingly.

"I'll be fine. See you in the kitchen…And the flowers – thanks!"

She swung her legs on the floor; then stood up only to crash on the bed again. She caught herself with her hands on the bed.

"Now, I really insist on you taking the shower under my supervision." He said without any hint of a joke in his voice.

"I am fine. I guess, I just really need to eat something." He reached for the half empty coffee cup.

"Finish it."

She complied.

Then he opened the chest in the foot of the bed. "I always store my bag there. I put yours there too."

"The mystery of the chest is solved." She chuckled, her voice a little shaky. She was supporting her head with one hand and pressing the cup to her lips.

"What mystery?" He sat next to her and put her bag in front of her.

"Nevermind. An inner joke."

"Hey, we are here for this. We'll take things slow. We'll get you in shape. Bobby's like a fortress. Nothing can break in."

"Oh! That's why he asked about the coffee? Holy water?

"Yeah…"

"Oh, I love that man already."

"Seriously though. How are you?"

She tried to stand again. He was ready to catch her.

"I am fine - standing on my own two feet." She tried to joke.

"Is it a sarcasm I hear?"

"Why? Oh, I've stolen one of your lines?"

"Something like this."

"Just help me with my bag please. I don't think that bending will help my unpredictable bouts of lightheadedness."

He put the bag on his knees.

"Definitely better."

He watched her taking out the set of underwear and clothes for the day.

"Why are you torturing me with all this lacy stuff?" He even plunged his hand in her bag to help her choose.

She liked that he was on the light mood of the banter, she needed it more than anything now.

"Ok, so be it. You can see me off to the bathroom and if I am not out within 10 minutes you'll rush in and save me."

"Deal."

She liked that he trusted her with that.

"And say thank you for the coffee to the vigilant man."

-End of part 1-

* * *

A/N Thank you for your time! Wish you a good time of the day. If possible, let me know what you think.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **At Bobby's (part 2)**

 **10 minutes**

She said 10 minutes...

Is it long?

Is it enough?

Say, what if?

He was sitting inside the room.

It would be their room from now on whenever they stayed at Bobby's.

He was waiting for her. For the one who brought the happiness in his life, in his otherwise predetermined life. She was saving him not even realizing it. That kind of dependence should have frightened him but it did the opposite. It made him stronger. His life became more than just "family business" and staying alive. She revived the part of him that he didn't know he ever had. Her presence in his life showed him that he was more than a soldier, a man with a mission to save and protect. His life was no longer defined by hunting, by being an older brother, by being the one between the killed and the saved. She wanted him. She chose him. There was something magnifying in being chosen just for who you were.

He never thought that he would be a married man, that he could give such kind of commitment.

He parted with this idea long ago. What was the point if it could go all to nothing in less than a day, if it could be taken away in less than a minute.

But what he had now it was worth the risk. The secret was to never live in the 'what if" world but in the actual day.

When the minute hand of his watches marked the end of 10 minutes he freed the time helper of his gaze.

The door opened.

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Think of your perfect kiss. Close your eyes and take that memory walk. Relive it. Feel it.

If you think that a perfect kiss is yet to come - detail it in your mind. Let your heart and mind map it out, so that you might even feel it. Time. Place. Person.

After kissing Jo for the first time Dean knew that they discovered the universal language. Their language. By the kiss he could tell what she thought, what she felt, what she wanted. Their kisses were the language of passion, understanding, care, promise, fight, regret. Hope.

Through the years of being married when one of them would be really mad at the other (such things happen even with the best of us) they would not kiss.

It could never last longer than a day. (Though there was one time when - ...Well, there would be another story for that particular case.)

Her kiss - a tender caress, a devotion of the lover, a power crushing all but faith, a healing consolation, or the mix - always prefect to him. Simply because it was his Jo.

Their first perfect kiss was in their room at Bobby's.

The door to the room opened when the minute hand started the next round of minutes.

"I didn't want you to worry." She said looking into his eyes. As if her punctuality needed any explanation at all.

"You just didn't want me to catch you naked in the shower." He shot back.

"Oh!" She was visibly speechless. It lasted not long. "I will keep it in mind for the future showers." She said it rather seriously: with commitment and promise to take the next shower longer than the promised time.

"Good." His voice mirrored her tonality.

"I was thinking, -" She started conversationally, softly moving towards him, keeping eye contact with him.

"In the shower?"

"Year, but don't interrupt me."

She reached her husband without breaking the eye lock; she sat on his lap straddling him using his shoulders for support.

"I was thinking that if …eh – Bobby – the vigilant didn't interrupt us you would kiss me."

She read the answer in his gaze, she felt it in his touch. Like a whisper his hands traced the skin of her sides reaching her face.

'Yes!'

They destroyed the distance between them, they destroyed any doubts with their kiss, first kiss in the row of many that would not allow them to let go... of vitality, joy, hope and fight till the end.

Dean's back hit the bed and Jo followed him.

It was the trust. It was the feeling of belonging. It was the dependence. It was the need to make the other happy. It was all the things; they just didn't call it love. Because love was too simple of a word to define what they were to each other. But their kisses could.

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Bobby heard them coming down the stairs. In a second he would see the girl that Dean obviously cared much about. And he was open about it. Sam refused him any hints stating that it was not his place and 'anyway, you would learn all you want in a matter of minutes.'

Bobby closed the book. Sam, on the contrarily, got himself more comfortable with one of the local papers. Bobby saw through it. But it didn't matter.

The girl walked in. She carried herself with easiness and confidence but his eye caught the slightest stiffness. Light, fair hair still a little wet from the shower framed the young face. He looked into her bottomless and absolutely open eyes of dark amber. There was a lot to take it.

"You must be Jo, right hon'?"

Jo looked at the ageless man with moustache and a dirty cap with a worn out book in his hands but what caught her most were the eyes. Sharp. They were like looking deep into you. He smiled reassuringly. She closed the distance and thrust her hand out for the shake.

"I'm Jo, Jo Harvelle." A distinct clearing of throat could be heard in the background.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I meant Jo, Jo Winchester, nee Harvelle." She turned back and winked at Dean. He gave her a dimpled smile and moved to stand beside her. Bobby still didn't utter a word. And Jo realized that she had been able to plunge the old stager in a state of shock with just letting him know her last name. "And this is Bobby Singer," fulfilled Dean.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Singer. I've heard lots about you both from Sam and Dean."

Sam chuckled, but it seemed that none of the actors noticed the sound from the audience as the scene took away all their focus. And if they were they would see that he enjoyed the first seat view.

"And it's all true, hon'. All true. But let's skip the 'Mr' part. You are a family now."

He searched the eyes of Dean. The look clearly expressed -No one would dare even think otherwise "My congratulation on the occasion!"

Jo got this warm tingling. She knew her face got pink. She knew that she was a family by extension, but... "Thank you, Bobby." She didn't expect her voice to sound so raw because of the acceptance that this Book Mater - Bobby Singer gave her. She felt Dean's hand on the small of her back and hold his gaze.

"What about the breakfast?" the audience joined the stage effectively dismissing the moment.

"I've made waffles, _for you_." Said Dean. Her heart skipped a bit. 'I would get the arrhythmia with all this', she thought.

"He would not let me taste any." Sam informed her merrily with a hint of grumble.

She saw how the 'old brother annoyance' look crossed Dean's face.

"Can it."

"Ok, I am out of this kindergarten," said Bobby, being the first to leave the stage.

On his way out of the kitchen he stopped in front of the couple. "Good luck, Jo! Enjoy the breakfast!"

* * *

A/N : 1) Thank you for reading!

2) I'm sorry for all grammar, spelling and punctuation mistakes. I only hope, they were not too much to spoil the perception.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 **A New Player**

Sam found Bobby sitting at what can be described as the old hunter's operating master table. The space could be tagged as the living room only due to its general location regarding the house and, of course the presence of fireplace. Other than that, the room looked like any other - surrounded by rows and heaps of books of all sizes and ages. They were only slightly dusty. They looked usable. They looked useful. They looked powerful.

"Dean's married. How did this happen Sam, huh?"

"It's quite a long story, Bobby," said Sam, taking the chair closer to the table. "And I am not privy to all the details."

"You escaped the battle field too fast." He offered Bobby a waffle.

Bobby took the offering.

"Give me the facts boy."

Sam paused.

"How long?" Bobby prompted.

"No more than two month Bobby."

Sam knew he had to offer Bobby some info. He owed him. Taking a deep breath

Sam proceeded with the facts (trying to present dry facts).

Bobby's face was hard.

With every new 'fact' that Sam put out, Bobby's respect towards Jo grew.

"She is the fighter, that kid."

"Yeah," agreed Sam. "She is strong. She saved us twice. She makes Dean smile, Bobby. And I am not talking about his cocky smirk, it is the real one.

"Happy, I dare say," added Bobby absentmindedly.

Over Sam's story Bobby kept silence. He wasn't looking at Sam and the latter was grateful to the opportunity. He struggled with the part of his meeting Jo. He was the one to hurt her no matter what his brother and sister-in-law told him, he knew - it was his actions that endangered his family.

At some point during Sam's mostly one sided dialogue Dean flew into the living room saying something about leaving for some time with Jo, picnic and that Bobby and he should not wait on them.

He was fast, like a blur. Sam doubt Bobby even noticed Dean. Anyway, Dean's interruption gave Sam some time to pull himself together and continue.

He finished with the facts that he knew about the Safety Net asking if Bobby knew anything about this organization.

"I'll be damn!" The old hunter broke the silence with a cry full of disbelief.

"This is too good to be true! But if I'm right…then…" Sam caught how quickly emotions changed on the usually guarded face of the old hunter: doubtful recognition, joy, uncertainty, sadness and determination to… fight. Hope? Sam waited patiently. He knew better than made Bobby explain.

"I knew the kid's parents. Tough hunters. From the very old line. But really good people. One hell of a hunter kind. Their death was a big loose for the Resistance. They were not truly a part of the Net." Bobby's voice was quiet, clip. Distanced. He was many years back, as if he were not in the room. As if he were describing pictures of his previous life. Sam absorbed every word greedily. He was afraid to push Bobby, he was afraid the old hunter would change his mind and return to silent reflection.

"I knew they had a kid...a little girl...yeah. It's a small world." He said with a quite nostalgic smile.

"You mean that Jo is the kid of your...friends - hunters, that you knew the Harvelles?"

"Yes."

Bobby didn't elaborate. The ring of the phone stopped Sam from any questions that were more than ready to leave his lips.

Great, just great! Another thing to look into. Now Sam had not only to piece up the things about the Net but the Resistance as well. Know your adversary and a possible allay.

It was like the demons, ghosts, werewolves, witches and other supernatural crap was not enough.

They'd have to deal with humans too!

He needed some air. Leaving Bobby to answer the phone Sam went out to walk away the frustration and agitation the level of which exceeded the usual standard degree - I'm a hunter and I know how to act. Giving Bobby the facts made him rethink the whole thing. The more he thought about it the more sure he became that the Net stood against his initial abduction and as a result demon possession.

Booby picked up the call. He knew that number. He wasn't looking forward to the talk.

"Colin."

"Bobby. How are you?"

"The same. Why are you calling?"

"I need to see you in person."

"Come again?"

"Have you heard that the oldest Winchester got himself a Mrs?"

"Maybe..."

A short pause. The man's voice on the other side hardened.

"Then you know why!"

"But why _now_?" Bobby stressed the last word.

"Because she is still alive!"

Bobby gave a slight pause. "Same place then. In an hour?"

"I know that they are now at your place. I will drop in for dinner."

Bobby had no time for any reply or arguments as the short beeps echoed his fast beating heart.

"Sam!"

* * *

Thank you for reading!


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **a test drive of 'normal' life** or

 _ **don't lose yourself between the dream and reality**_

Jo didn't need training to get into shape after all the things she went through. She had trained how to be a hunter most part of her life from strategy to action. She needed a safe place to heal and regain her strength. She needed a home. And Dean wanted her to be have it.

She was eating a waffle after a waffle looking at him like she knew what he was thinking. He wanted her. She wanted him. He wanted her all to himself. She wanted him all to herself. No interruptions.

"Let's have a picnic." She said.

"With a sleep over." He said.

"I'll pack."

"I'll let the guys now."

The picnic turned into a relatively short drive to Jeremier's 'farm' where they were all alone but were far from feeling lonely...Maybe they were running away but then it felt like the right thing to do.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-...

It was a holiday, a miracle...It was what normal people called a vocation, a honeymoon. Oh screw it, it was heaven! He was sure of it. This 'farm' was located in the secluded area, protected and fully functioning independently surrendered by trees and fields.

It was a beautiful home. It didn't have the latest high tech design or outstanding paintings on the walls. But it gave the luxury of a homey feeling, the aroma of fresh linen and woody furniture, the simplicity and rightness of the order of things. And they did homey things, like cooking and watching TV, but mostly they didn't leave their bedroom. They loved with urgency like they knew that they could not take for granted what they had. Perhaps they knew it.

They had that talk the first night at the farm...

"Dean?"

"I'm here Jo."

"You know that feeling when time is too precious and you can taste it, feel like it's almost slipping from your fingers." The words were shaky and they were leaving her lips in hurried waves.

Dean hugged her more tightly. "Yes, this feeling is familiar to me." Flashes of his nightmares with her burning alive passed before his eyes. "But we will get through it. We will. I promise."

"Dean, please don't give me promises that we both know are impossible to keep."

He shut his eyes tightly. When he opened his eyes again he knew that she would look at him. Walls were talking, shadows were moving in the moonlight. The eyes could not lie even in the shadows.

"I promise we will get the most of what we can."

"I promise we'll get the most of our lives together too," she said.

She reached him and they secured the promise with a kiss, a kiss of promise with a taste of salt.

It was so easy with her... it was so easy with her to forget about the pain, about the troubles of the day, about the loss. She washed away his thoughts filling him with passion and happiness. Her breathless kissing, sloppy at times, rushed and open, it seemed, never ceased to fuel him.

She gave him all she had. His touch, his caress with his eyes made her feel alive, wanted and needed. Not once he made her doubt. She felt beautiful and powerful. Maybe even whole.

She told him about her life before and after the Net.

He told her what it was like to be a hunter for him, how he sometimes questioned his skills. How he searched Sam, how it was to be without a father to back him up.

She told him about her parents, what she remembered anyway.

The game "what if" somehow became the part of their routine.

What if ...you got outnumbered; we got separated on the case; one of us were kidnapped...They worked out codes and names...they even talked about

There was not a worse thing than having a choice. You had to live with the consequences of your choice. Yes, free will.

"Say, we are in a situation when I'm telling you to go."

"When you are giving me the order to go," she clarified.

"Right," he confirmed.

She was not angry with him, more sad. All the things they had talked about before, all of them little by little drained this heaven like place from its blissful ignorance, their conscious ignorance. That current talk swiftly carried away the happy fog brining them back to reality.

"What if we left the choice to the one who were under aim."

She didn't want him to carry the burden of the choice alone. He was not to bear the responsibility alone. He had her now. They would share it too.

Her offer hung in the air between them. Silent seconds passed webbing the wall between the hunters, the lovers, the man and the woman.

She saw that he didn't want to consider it. He was not ready. She would made him see...As _for now_...

"Why don't we get some fresh air," offered Jo. She saw his shoulders dropped off the rigid state.

"It's a date then," responded Dean. "I'll pick you up at 8 p.m. sharp." He made his move.

The heaven was slipping through their fingers but they were not ready to admit it.

They both knew that they would return to this talk again, but _for now_...they were running again.

"It's already 7p.m., Dean. I have only one hour to get ready." Jo gave an attempt of some whine, trying to keep her face straight.

"One hour for you is more than enough," he looked her up and down, making a show of judging her look. "Anyway, you are beautiful and we can go out now," he resumed.

She couldn't contain the bubbles of laughter anymore. "Dean," she laughed, "I am wearing your T-shirt!"

"And you look beautiful," he tugged her hand making her swirl around. Jo found herself in his strong arms.

For just a second, a moment really, they stilled like that and their eyes locked, their joined hands between their beating hearts. Dean's left hand tangled in her hair, a salty kiss of promise surfaced between them: that they had, that they would always remember. The moment passed, Jo lined into him and his lips grazed her hair, cheeks, finally taking her lips.

She was all his. He was all hers.

They were not ready to go out by 8 p.m. obviously.

They decided on the rain check but he already knew that he would take her out tomorrow. Orchestrating the perfect date with his wife he lost himself between the dream and reality lulled by her even breathing by his side.

* * *

Thank you for reading!

Thank you for your time!

Wish you a sunny day despite any clouds. Anyway, they are just clouds...the wind will blow them away. And the Sun is always there.


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